Magecraft and Wizardry
by xMad.Hatterx007
Summary: HP/MGLN x-over. Harry Potter, missing for eight years, has been found, and just in time for the Triwizard Tournament. But the Wizarding world is in for quite a shock. Harry is not a wizard; he's a mage. Now the Takamachi-Harlaown family is coming to Hogwarts. NanoFate, Harry/?, Vivio/?
1. Part One, Chapter One

Magecraft and Wizardry

Part One: The Misfit Mage

Chapter One: The Takamachi-Harlaown Family

When the sun began to rise, Harry sat up and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't slept all night, but given the circumstances that was unsurprising. He hated England. There was nothing here that he liked; he was here because his aunt was visiting her uncle one final time before he passed away. He and the rest of his family tagged along for support, otherwise he would probably be in Japan, in the Midori-ya café with his Momoko-baasan and Shiro-jiisan.

He began to prepare himself for the day. First he grabbed his glasses. When he was a boy, they were overly large, with thick black frames and large round lenses. After being taken in by his mothers, they got him new glasses, with frames better suited to his face. The lenses were rectangular and the frame itself was much thinner. Harry rather liked them.

He put on his glasses and dressed himself, choosing an outfit that was as close to being a uniform without actually being one as possible. If he had to describe it, he would say it looked a fair bit like the uniforms boys wore in Japanese schools. There were a few embellishments, of course. Everything was black except for the turquoise piping and the pin he wore on his breast pocket to indicate he was a Military Cadet, and another to indicate his mage rank: C+. No one would know what it meant, however, since it was a symbol utilized by the Time Space Administration Bureau; only a select few on earth knew anything about the TSAB. Harry knew about it though, had known for years, and even spent more than half of his life there, living with his adopted mothers and sister.

Officially, he was an Enforcer Cadet. He did not intend to join the military, something his family knew and understood, but he was more than willing to make use of the perks he got for having two incredibly famous mothers. The education and physical training he was getting at the TSAB Academy was second to none, even if he was only a low-level mage.

"Glaive," he said, reaching for a bottle of hair gel; his black hair was unruly, but that broke protocol in the TSAB Academy, so he had to take steps to tame it, even on leave. It wouldn't do to fall out of the habit. After all, unlike his mothers, he was not an Ace and could not get away with unruly hair.

[Yes, Sir] his Device intoned, the voice both mechanical and feminine.

"Establish connection please," He said, smoothing down his hair. It would make the lightning bolt scar in the middle of his forehead more visible, but he didn't mind.

[Establishing connection] Glaive said. The little blue triangle on his wrist, secured by a wristwatch band, glowed faintly and a turquoise sheen ran across the lenses of his glasses. [Connection secured. All functions fully operational.]

"Thank you Glaive," he replied, tying his hair back. It was not long, not really, but it was long enough that he could tie it off in the back and have a short tail visible; it also kept his hair from getting in his face when he was training. He straightened his jacket. No, not a uniform, but very close. Harry liked uniforms, liked the idea of everyone having to wear the same thing. He supposed that after years of having to wear his former cousin's ill-fitting clothing and being ridiculed for it, the sense of conformity, of blending in, was very attractive.

Prepared for the day, he left the room. It was not his room. His room was much smaller, but not claustrophobic like the cupboard under the stairs had been when he still lived with the Dursleys. His room was not nearly as lavish, either, and the bed was not as soft, the furniture not as luxurious; his room in general was far more Spartan and windowless. He missed his room. He did not care for the pomp and auspicious wealth of the Graham household in general, let alone in the room he was staying in. Perhaps he could leave a note in the kitchen and head out for his morning run. It would do him good to get out of the house for a time.

He made his way to the kitchen. Signum was there, her bright pink hair pulled back and her eyes closed. Harry wasn't fooled. Just because Signum's eyes were closed, it didn't mean anything. She was probably meditating. Her eyes flickered open, perfectly alert; he was right.

"Good morning, Aunt Signum," he greeted.

"It's awfully early to be up," she said. "Not comfortable being back here in England?"

"I prefer Mid-Childa," he answered.

She nodded once. "Understandable. Shall we spar later?"

It was a courtesy; she wasn't really asking. Harry sparred with her once a week. It served to remind him that he was an incredibly weak mage and she was incredibly powerful. It also helped him to develop his skills to such a degree that he could beat most A ranked mages despite his own meager ranking. Skill, not power, wins that day; such is the true warrior's way. It was a lesson she beat into him every week, without fail. Of course, when she said it, it was in Ancient Belkan, some sort of Knight's Creed.

"Yes, thank you," he said, another courtesy. Both knew they would spar later, and that Harry would limp away, tired, drained, but a little wiser. He was grateful, even if he personally preferred learning from his mothers. They were wonderful teachers, and their methods were far gentler while being just as thorough. Nanoha taught him to control his magic, while Fate taught him melee combat and helped him to understand the nature of magic and how it worked. In short, his Okaasan taught him the math and science he needed to understand his magic, and his Nanomum helped him use that knowledge to create and use his spells.

"Do you think we can do it today?" A new voice asked.

"Good morning Vivio nee-chan," he greeted his sister.

A girl with golden colored hair came in and sat at the table. She fixed him with her curious stare; one green eye, the other crimson. "Morning Harry. And are we doing it today?"

"That depends on if Aunt Hayate got the sizes."

"Of course I did," the woman in question, Yagami Hayate, answered as she walked in. She looked like she had gotten even less sleep than Harry, an impressive feat since Harry had not slept at all. But then, he often couldn't sleep. He was something of an insomniac. She produced two slips of paper. "Fate-chan's ring size," she handed the paper to Harry, "and Nanoha-chan's ring size," she handed that paper to Vivio. "So you're really going to do it?"

"Get them matching rings for Christmas? Of course," Vivio replied. She watched Hayate move toward the stove. "Should we wait for Nanoha-mama and Fate-mama? They said something about going out for breakfast."

"You know, matching rings sounds like an awfully suspicious gift. Are you trying to tell them something?" Hayate asked, leaning against the counter and smiling, a small measure of mirth returning to her tired eyes.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry replied calmly, leaning back in his seat.

"Playing dumb doesn't suit you, Harry," Hayate chided with gentle amusement. "Matching rings for the best of friends? Yeah, sure. Sounds more like wedding bands to me."

Harry shared a look with Vivio. "They live in the same house," he began.

"They always cuddle on the couch and hold hands," Vivio continued.

"They sleep in the same bed," Harry went on.

"Where they also cuddle."

"And they have adopted two children together."

"Most people think they are a couple—except them."

"We're not trying to tell _them_ anything."

"We just want to tell everyone else that our Mamas are off limits until they can figure things out for themselves."

"And in the meantime," Hayate chimed with a full blown grin, "I will start the betting pool. Ooh, maybe I will start a few. I was just going to go with when they figure out what the rings mean, but I might also go with reactions. Oh! What do you think about a third, which one will make the first move when they do figure it out?"

"Easy, Takamachi," Signum said. "Testarossa will be too stunned to do anything but stand there and blush. Unless she faints. It depends on how many people are there."

"Yeah, good point. Just two then," Hayate squirmed a little in excitement.

Harry smiled. He was glad Aunt Hayate was doing a little better, even if it was at his Okaasan's expense, especially since she was notoriously bashful.

Vivio giggled. "Do you remember that time some new recruit planted one on Fate-mama because of a dare?"

Harry grinned in reply; he did. He was there when a fresh-faced recruit ran up, grabbed her face and kissed her before running off. Her entire face flushed as she stared blankly after the girl, completely confused. Puzzled, she'd gone to find Nanoha and ask her about it; that much Harry knew nothing about, as he was not there. It still made her blush when anyone mentioned it, though.

"Good times, good times," Hayate grinned.

"We've had many, so you'll have to be more specific," a cheerful voice replied.

Harry smiled and turned around, his smile widening when he saw not one but two women standing there. "Okaasan, Nanomum, good morning."

"Good morning," Fate said, coming close and kissing him on the cheek. With anyone else, he would have made a fuss, but he never pushed Fate away; she was his Okaasan. "Happy birthday."

"Oh Harry!" Hayate cried. "Happy birthday! I'm so sorry, I completely forgot, what with…everything…ah, I'm sorry, with…the stuff going on, this is a really rotten, oh Harry, I—"

"It's alright, Aunt Hayate, I understand," he said, discreetly looking at the calendar: July 31st. It really was his birthday.

"You forgot again, didn't you?" Nanoha asked, smiling. She reached out to ruffle his hair, but he swatted her hand away. She grinned, amusement in her gaze. Harry got a terrible feeling that she had just made mussing his hair her goal for the day.

"Don't tease him, Nanoha," Fate said, pulling out a chair for her. Harry shared a look with Vivio and both rolled their eyes as Nanoha sat. "So Harry," Fate said, taking her own seat. "What would you like to do today? I had thought to go out for breakfast, but it occurred to me that I should ask you."

Harry couldn't keep the grin from his face. What a beautiful thing, the freedom of choice. It was the best gift he would get all day.

"We can go out," he said then paused, "if Aunt Hayate is up to it."

Hayate smiled wanly at him. "Ah, Harry, you're a sweet kid. I think my Knights and I will remain here today, but you and your family should definitely go out. There are a lot of things here that you just can't find on Mid-Childa, so you should take advantage while you can."

He smiled at her, but he had the feeling everyone knew it was forced. He hated England, and they knew it. He didn't care about the local attractions. He would just as soon raze it to the ground than chance a run-in with the Durselys. "Alright, Aunt Hayate. Do you need us to get you anything while we are out?"

She waved her hand absently. "No, I'm fine. If I need anything I will send one of my Knights, if any of them really need out of the house. Well, I should to go check on Aria and Lotte. I'll see you later—and happy birthday Harry."

"Thank you, Aunt Hayate." He watched her walk from the room, Signum on her heels this time.

Signum stopped and, without so much as looking over her shoulder, stated "I still expect a sparring match later," and continued on.

Harry chuckled softly. Ah, Signum, she never changed. Not even something as trivial as his birthday would stand in the way of training. It was part of her charm, he thought.

"So where do you want to go?" Nanomum asked.

Harry considered it for a moment. "Do you suppose we could find a Japanese restaurant serving breakfast?" He smiled sheepishly. "It's been awhile since I've had any. They don't serve anything like that at the Academy."

Truthfully, there was more to it than that. The Dursleys would never eat anything other than good-old-fashioned Englishmen's food. They stayed away from anything that could be called 'ethnic'. He also knew that Nanoha had not had any of her native cuisine in a while, and he liked to make his mothers happy. Fate gave him a look indicating she knew exactly why he wanted Japanese food, but wasn't going to say anything given that it was both his choice and his Nanomum was desperately trying not to show how excited she was about their impending meal.

Fate drove them—she loved driving almost as much as her car, and had paid extra to bring it along on the trip. It garnered more than a few envious stares. No one was worried about it getting stolen; as an Enforcer's car, it had a variety of defense mechanisms in place. Fate hummed a happy tune as she drove; Harry supposed that driving for her was as relaxing as flying was for him.

Luckily they found a little restaurant that opened early. The place was nearly empty, except for an elderly Japanese couple in the back, so they were seated quickly and their orders taken. Vivio gave a long suffering sigh. She didn't like Japanese cuisine nearly as much as he and Nanoha did. Too many greens for her, apparently. He'd make it up to her later.

The meal was uneventful and filled with mindless chatter. It was the sort of thing Harry could appreciate. He liked things to be ordinary. Here, they were just another family having breakfast together—even if they were all mages, no one in that family was actually related, and the parents were completely unaware that they were a couple. Well, it was ordinary for him, he supposed, and that was good enough.

Their next stop was a park for a walk—they couldn't run since there were other places to go, but the walk did the four of them good. Then they continued on to a theater for a matinee showing. It had taken twenty minutes to figure out what to watch (Harry was completely in the dark about the movies, living off-world), but he finally decided on a romantic comedy—the romance for his Okaasan (because despite how oblivious she could be, she really was a bit of a sap) and the comedy for his sister (he still owed her for breakfast). His Nanomum, impressively, managed to stay awake for the first ten minutes before she dozed off; she had a terrible time staying awake if things weren't exploding. He thought it was a decent enough movie and it was an entertaining way to pass the time.

Sharing a conspiratorial look with Vivio, Harry suggested a mall next. His mothers, knowing he did not care for shopping, were surprised to say the least, but went along with it. From there it was easy enough to go their separate ways—Nanomum wanted to go to the arcade and play games and his Okaasan would, naturally, indulge her. Not doing so had obviously never crossed her mind.

"Just browse for a little bit," Fate said. "If there is anything you want, we'll see about getting it later on. Be back here for lunch."

"Yes Okaasan," Harry replied as Vivio answered "Yes Fate-mama."

They did browse. Harry found a few books he was interested in, and Vivio found a new ribbon for Chris, whom she carried in her arms since it would shock people to see a floating rabbit. Harry and Vivio wandered around together, trading stories that were carefully edited to hide any details of the TSAB and some of their friends' more dubious origins. 'Like a robot' quickly became the favored euphemism for Combat Cyborg and 'like twins' meant clone. At one point, while they were talking about Subaru, a stranger started talking to them about cars. They slipped away not long after, both terribly confused.

Eventually, they casually made their way to a jewelry store. They'd been saving for well over a year, with every intention of buying their mothers beautiful rings, regardless of price. Considering all that Fate and Nanoha had done for them, they were more than willing to pay, and Hayate had even helped them a little as far as funding and converting their Mid-Childan allowance to the English pound system.

They split up, hoping to cover more ground faster. Vivio mastered her telepathy years ago, and while Harry could not initiate, he could respond once the connection was established. They stayed in almost constant contact, even when apart. They were having little luck. After ten minutes of browsing, a snooty woman stepped over to Harry with an obviously fake smile.

"Can I help you, young sir?" She asked.

"I'm looking for matching rings," he said. "Nothing fancy, but nothing ordinary, either. Oh, and this is one of the ring sizes." He pulled out the paper. "Vivio! Over here!" He sister ran up. He returned the woman's plastic smile. "She has the other size."

The woman's gaze flickered between him and Vivio as his sister approached. "Don't you two think you're a little young for this?"

Harry and Vivio frowned at one another. Too young? He considered it. It was a rather devious plan, and he had only turned fourteen that day. That must have been Aunt Hayate's influence.

"No, we're not. If you knew Aunt Hayate, you'd understand," Vivio replied. Harry nodded sagely. "So can you help us?"

The woman scoffed. "I am not about to help a couple of runaway kids pick out wedding rings they can't afford just because your parents say you can't be together!" She walked off in a huff, leaving Harry and Vivio staring at each other in abject horror at the very idea of marrying. They did the only suitable thing they could do; they fled the mall entirely.

Harry sat on a bench outside the main doors and shuddered. Marrying Vivio… the very idea. He shuddered again. Vivio herself looked like she was going to be ill. Harry didn't blame her, as he was feeling rather nauseous himself.

After a few minutes of collecting their thoughts and putting aside their queasiness, Vivio sighed. "That was a complete and total failure. As far as missions go, this is the worst result I've ever had. What are we going to do now?"

Harry shrugged helplessly. He was a smart kid, he knew, and he was raised to make intelligent choices, but for all of his knowledge he was not a genius. He had no idea how to go about getting the rings. He leaned back, letting his head hit the brick wall with a heavy _thunk_. He winced and rubbed his head, careful not to muss his hair.

"You're so vain," Vivio said, smirking at him.

"I am not!" He defended himself. "I just don't want to break protocol. I might be demoted."

"You're on leave."

"I don't want to fall out of the habit. Might lead to laziness and laziness leads to—"

"Forgetfulness, yeah I remember." She rolled her eyes. Considering she was Belkan herself, Harry always thought it was amusing that she did not care for the Belkan anecdotes Signum was so fond of, nor could she remember them as he did.

Harry frowned at her, but didn't say anything. She would only argue with him anyway. She wasn't like that with anyone else, so Harry assumed it was just a brother-sister thing. He leaned forward and looked around. Perhaps there was another store out here, something not affiliated with the mall so he would not have to go in and be mortified by that woman if he and Vivio ran into her again.

He looked left, looked right, went to talk to Vivio, then jerked around and looked right again.

"What is it?" Vivio asked, craning her neck to see.

"Do you see that?"

"See what?"

Harry leaned back to give her a better view, and pointed. Vivio followed the direction with her eyes, but shook her head. Then she frowned and cocked her head to the side. "Is that…what is that?"

"It looks like a witch stirring a leaking cauldron," Harry replied. "I think. Oh, it says right on there, The Leaky Cauldron."

"The Leaky Cauldron, huh? It's funny, I couldn't see it at first, but the longer I looked, the easier it was to see. It's like looking through one of Miss Teana's illusions, only hers are better."

Harry nodded; Teana's illusions were excellent. He shifted slightly in his seat. He felt an odd pull to this place, so much so that the words "let's go check it out," slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them.

-THE PHOTO ALBUM-

_SNAP!_

There is a photograph of a little boy in a bed. He is thin, unnaturally so, face gaunt, lips pursed, and eyes empty. He stares warily at the blonde woman sitting on his bed. In her hands, the woman holds a bowl of soup.

The back reads: _Graham Manor. _

_Harry (5) and Fate (19). _

Far from England, on the distant planet called Mid-Childa, stands a quaint little house. It is called the Takamachi-Harlaown residence.

It is much loved by the occupants, but the Takamachi-Harlaown family did not always live in that cozy little house. Before, the two women and their daughter lived at a base in a cramped, single apartment because no one in authority wanted to give them family quarters. They were not sure why.

Then they took in a boy. He is broken, a shell of a child, with no more spirit than the blonde woman, Fate, possessed once upon a time. She sees herself in that boy, and so she cannot let him go.

She carried him away from his family, back to her own.

Knight Shamal tended to him when Fate broke down the door of Graham Manor, the frail child in her arms and cold fury in her eyes. Severe malnutrition, minor dehydration, a mild concussion, three bruised ribs, a sprained wrist, and a greenstick fracture in his right leg. "Children are durable," she says. "If he were older," Knight Shamal tells Fate and Nanoha, "it would be worse, but because he is young and his body is more pliable, he was saved from the worst of it."

Fate does not think his youth has saved him from anything. She sees too much of herself in the boy. Far too much.

She worked through that first terrible night to build a Device for him. Lacking any creativity in the grave situation, she modeled it after Bardiche, a small triangle plate with a gem. It is very simple, and the only thing it can really do is monitor the boy—she does not know his name, he will not speak. The Device will alert Bardiche if something is wrong. It is all she can do for now with her limited knowledge of Device construction and limited supplies. Her own mentor Linith was a Device Meister, but the woman Fate is not.

She can sense a modicum of power in him, not a lot but it is noticeable. He panics when she mentions magic, so she no longer speaks of the subject and has asked her longtime friend, Nanoha, and their adopted daughter not to mention it to him. She will have to wait until he is ready to tell him he has the ability to become a mage, if he so chooses. She may even have the little Device she crafted improved and imbued with artificial intelligence. That too will wait until he is ready.

For now she sits on his bed, holding a bowl of soup. She made it herself, and Nanoha assures her it is good, and Knight Shamal confirms that it is just what he needs nutritionally. She offers him a bite. He stares at her for a moment, not sure if it is a trick, but slowly, slowly, leans forward and takes the spoon in his mouth, and slowly, slowly pulls away, slurping a little.

"What is your name?" Fate asks in English (she is fluent, but her words are accented), offering him another spoonful. He does not answer, but allows her to continue feeding him. Fate is glad. She thinks that, perhaps, she needs this as much as he does. This is something she always wished her mother would do for her in the Garden of Time, but that was an impossible dream. She enjoys giving this boy something she could not have, something she suspects he has always wanted himself.

When the bowl is empty, she brushes his messy hair out of his eyes (he flinches; she pretends not to notice) and tucks him in. He watches her move across the room and sit in a hard wooden chair that faces away from him. It is the post she has taken up since she carried him to this place.

"Harry," he whispers.

Fate looks over her shoulder and smiles at him. "Goodnight Harry. I will be here if you need me."

-chapter end-

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha/Mahou Shojou Lyrical Nanoha.

A/N: Okay, so, this has been rattling around in my head for some time. Normally I would never dream of posting anything until it was completely finished, but this was begging to be posted sooner. I thought I might let some of the readers have some input. I am looking for thoughts/opinions on the PHOTO ALBUM. Please see my profile for more information on this.

I hope all of the alterations I make to the characters are believable. If they are not, I ask that you call me on it. I will either find a way to further explain the alterations in the story itself or change what I have written. It is very important to me that this story is plausible and believable.

Please review!

Au revoir,

Hatter


	2. Part One, Chapter Two

Magecraft and Wizardry

Part One: The Misfit Mage

Chapter Two: Watched

"So you want us to take you to a place called the Leaky Cauldron for lunch?" Nanoha asked dubiously. "Is it even a place where you can eat? It sounds like some sort of, I don't know, specialized club or something."

"And how did you find this place anyway?" Fate asked.

"We really needed some fresh air, we were both feeling kind of sick," Vivio explained, just as they'd discussed. They were careful to be honest. "We only went outside the doors, to the benches. We're fine now," she assured their mothers.

Harry nodded along. "The sign underneath said food was served there." It was technically true. There was a sign. But Harry and Vivio had found the sign only after peering in one of the windows.

"And I'm starving," Vivio added, rubbing her stomach for effect. She didn't need to; it was rumbling loudly. She hadn't eaten much at breakfast.

Nanoha chuckled and Fate smiled affectionately. They shared a look. A glance at Vivio confirmed they were not speaking telepathically, they were communicating with their expressions, something that tended to annoy most of their friends. "Alright," Fate agreed. "But we're leaving if there is any sign of trouble. We can come back and finish shopping later if you still want those books you mentioned."

Harry almost cheered, but settled for grinning.

Then Nanoha ruined the moment by ruffling his hair. He tried to frown, but it came out as a smirk while he smoothed it back into place. She gave him an impish look; he had inadvertently declared war. She would be after him all day regardless of how many times she succeeded. Harry knew this for a fact, since it had happened several times over the years. He didn't mind. It was a game between them.

Fate laughed, and Harry smiled at her. Her laughs were always soft and gentle, and easy to miss they were so quiet. It filled him with warmth. She gestured for him to lead the way, and the happy little family set off, Harry leading, and his mothers and sister a few steps behind.

It was a short distance and not worth driving. They chose to walk, Fate and Nanoha stopping a few steps away from the mall. They, apparently, had not had as much trouble as Vivio in noticing the sign, but they could definitely tell something was off. They were frowning up at the sign, and Nanoha was toying with Raising Heart—she wore it around her neck, even in England where was supposed to be safe—while Fate grabbed something in her pocket, Bardiche probably. Still, they carried on. Fate managed to get ahead of them—speed was one of Harry's few specialties, but even in that arena, he was nowhere near Fate's level—and opened the door for them.

Harry stepped in first and immediately felt a sense of nostalgia wash over him. There was something very soothing and familiar about this place. It felt vaguely like home, even though home was a small house on Mid-Childa near the Armed Forces training base. Odd.

Fate shut the door behind them after Nanoha and Vivio stepped in. Everyone stared at them. Some began to whisper to one another, and one kid pointed at them and asked if they were muddles or muggles or something.

Nanoha coughed. "Well, I'm going to take a wild guess and say we seat ourselves."

Harry immediately moved to a nearby table and pulled out a chair for Vivio while Fate did the same for Nanoha. Once Vivio was seated, Harry took the seat opposite, smiling at Fate, who had already taken her seat across from Nanoha. They sat awkwardly until Nanoha leaned back and looked over at the bar. "Can we have a few menus over here please?"

The barman, a bald fellow came over, hands shaking and sweating profusely. "Ah, here you go ladies, young sir. Your, ah, menus." His words sounded strange, and it took Harry a moment to realize he had no teeth. Still, he smiled and thanked the man. Then the barman met Harry's eyes and froze. He gaped. He sputtered. He pointed. He even spit a little. Harry was incredibly uncomfortable.

Fate scowled and nudged the man's arm. He looked over at her and yelped. Fate's scowl intensified. "Can I help you with something?" She asked, her voice light and pleasant, but carrying an underlying hint of steel.

He opened and closed his mouth rapidly before he gaped at Harry, looked back at Fate, and stumbled away. He whispered something to the woman helping him. She looked over Harry in shock and promptly starting whispering to someone else.

"What an unusual reaction," Nanoha said carefully.

"What a weirdo," Vivio scoffed.

The man scurried into a backroom. Harry casually brushed his fingers over Glaive and sent a silent request. A turquoise sheen ran over the lenses of his glasses and began to refocus, zooming in at his nonverbal command. He began to look around at the other people, trying to read their lips.

"Now Vivio, that's not—what in the name of…what kind of a menu is this? Griffin Leg? Dragon Steak? Caro would cry if she ever saw this menu."

Fate frowned and picked up her menu. "I think I just became a vegetarian." She cocked her head to the side. "Pumpkin juice. That sounds odd. I think I'll try it…if anyone ever comes and takes our orders."

Nanoha giggled. "That's a kid's drink, Fate-chan."

"Oh," she said with a crooked smile. "It still sounds interesting though."

Most of the whispered conversation, from what he could see, was based on how four muggles (muckles maybe?) could wander in past the wards. As whatever the woman said spread, more people started talking about a scar, and Harry had the foreboding feeling it was the one on his forehead. There was also some talk about a demon woman. Harry could only guess it was a reference to Fate's eyes. He glowered at the man who said it; the man promptly fainted.

Vivio, who hadn't even touched her menu, was looking around. "Hey, why are all the guys dressed like girls?" Her voice carried, and all four of them winced at the looks they got. Vivio turned around in her seat. "Well it's true," she mumbled.

From the corner of his eye, Harry thought he saw a flash of green light coming from another room. Harry shuddered; there was something chilling about a flash of green, though he could not pinpoint why. He frowned and asked Glaive to return his glasses to their original state. The turquoise sheen ran over the lenses and his vision was normal again.

The barman and a new fellow stepped out of the back room. Harry looked at the peculiar man. He wore a magenta dress with vibrant blue stars and crescent moons. He had long white hair and a long white beard that was so long he could (and did) tuck it into his belt. And this strange man was headed right for their table. Fate had seen him too. She pulled out Bardiche, but shook her head at Harry and Vivio; if there was a problem, she would handle it.

"Oh look," Nanoha whispered to Fate. "Merlin has arrived. We've walked into some sort of renaissance fair place and didn't even know it."

"That or it's a fetish club," Vivio quipped.

Nanoha dropped her menu. Fate twitched. Both stared at Vivio. Harry grinned at his sister's plight. "Where did you hear that?" His Okaasan asked, a tick developing in her left eye.

"Aunt Hayate," she answered without hesitation. Poor Aunt Hayate. She was blamed for everything. She was usually guilty, but still, it seemed underhanded to sell her out to save themselves, something Harry and Vivio did on a regular basis. It was a good thing she outranked Nanoha and Fate; they couldn't attack a superior.

A hand settled on Harry's shoulder and he looked up into bright blue eyes staring at him over the rim of half-moon glasses. Those blue eyes were stunned for a moment before it a spark of life returned to them.

"You need to let go of him," Fate said firmly, leaning forward, Bardiche—still in his standby form—held at the ready.

The odd man looked over at Fate and breathed in sharply. Harry frowned up at the man. All of these people had the most ridiculous reactions to her. It was really beginning to make him angry. Really now, what was it about her eyes that garnered this response? "Pardon me," the man said, "but I have been looking for this young man for a very long time now."

"You _really_ need to let him go," Nanomum warned. "You're making Harry uncomfortable," the name set off another round of whispers, "and that is a very good way to get on our bad side."

"Perhaps, but kidnapping is a very serious crime, and this young man should be returned to his rightful home and family," the man said. Harry felt ill. They were going to try and take him back to the Dursleys.

Fate was on her feet in flash, her Barrier Jacket appearing and her white cape fluttering down around her. Bardiche was in her hand and, in response to his master's icy fury, was already in Haken form. The tip of the scythe was a hairsbreadth from the man's throat. "Remove your hand from my son's person," she said coldly amidst the gasps of horror, "or I will remove it for you."

The man slowly lifted both hands up to his head.

"Harry, Vivio, we're leaving," Nanomum said calmly. She grabbed Harry's sleeve and tugged him towards her. She led him around the table and grabbed Vivio before guiding them to the door. Neither resisted. "We'll be outside, Fate-chan."

The door slammed shut as they stepped back into the streets of London. Harry didn't need to peek into the window like Vivio to know that Fate was making threats—no, that wasn't right. Promises. Aunt Hayate told Harry once that when it came to her family, Fate did not make threats, she made promises. She always kept them, too.

"She picked him up! By his dress! It's awesome!" Vivio whispered, though it was more like a shout.

"Vivio, stop that," Nanomum chided, but even she casually shifted to the side to see what was going on. She quickly turned away just as the door opened and Fate, dressed in civilian clothes, stepped out. Bardiche, now in standby form, was still in her hand.

"Well," she said, shutting the door. "I think we are going to have to go somewhere else for lunch Harry. I'm sorry." She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him to her side. Harry relished the contact.

"It's alright. I didn't know it was going to be like that," he replied, leaning into her side. "I guess we can eat at the Food Court."

Nanomum wrinkled her nose. "The food is so…greasy," she complained.

"Yes!" Vivio cheered. "Let's go clog our arteries!"

Lunch was a fairly normal affair. Vivio and Nanoha were both notoriously picky eaters, with Nanoha only wanting healthy foods (with the occasional glass of caramel milk) and Vivio wanting anything that was unhealthy. Fate and Harry, on the other hand, would just eat what they were given.

Harry couldn't be sure, but he felt that Nanoha and Vivio had never had to go for very long without eating. There was something about not knowing when the next meal would come that made a person respect food. Considering his punishments at the Durselys usually consisted of time in his cupboard and missed meals, Harry had a healthy respect for food. Fate's history was different from his own, and most of it was a mystery to him, but he still had a feeling that, somewhere along the line, there was trouble involving food. Harry did know she was adopted, so maybe her first family could not feed her properly.

So the family ate, Harry and Fate at a fairly normal pace and without complaint, Vivio inhaling her food, and Nanoha sighing and picking through her meal, trying to find the vegetables. There were a few jokes here and there, courtesy of Vivio, who was looking to lighten the mood after the disaster at the Leaky Cauldron.

Then a man ran up, snapped a picture of Harry with what looked like an antique camera, and ran off again.

Nanoha wiped her mouth and stood. "I'll handle this one, Fate-chan." She walked around the table, ruffled Harry's hair, and took off after the man.

Harry sighed and smoothed his hair again, careful not to pull any strands free of his ponytail. "So, when we're done, can we go to the bookstore?" Bookstores were safe. The Dursleys wouldn't go in there.

"I want to go check out those ribbons again," Vivio added, grabbing Nonoha's plate and giving her mama her vegetables and taking some of the more unhealthy morsels.

Fate smiled at her antics. "We'll see how it goes time wise," she said. "Your Nanoha-mama can take you and I'll go with Harry if nothing else. It will save time and we can be there in case anyone else decides to take up photography."

Harry knew the encounter at the Leaky Cauldron had disturbed her, and with the man with the camera, she was on edge. She didn't want to leave either of them alone. He could understand that; he didn't feel like being alone himself and appreciated the gesture.

Nanomum came back, frowning. "I couldn't find him," she said. "He ran around the corner, and when I looked he was just gone. The alley was completely empty. There was this sound, like a crack, so I thought he'd fallen, but I didn't find anything."

Fate's face was carefully blank. "Well, the kids want to finish up their shopping. Vivio wants some ribbons for Chris, and Harry wants a book."

"We're a bit short on time," Nanoha said, though he was sure there was nothing pressing happening. "Why don't we split up? I'll go with Vivio, and you can go with Harry." She looked down at her plate of food and her expression lit up. "In a few minutes, anyway, I'm still eating," she said, going after the newfound vegetables. Vivio smirked; Nanomum noticed but didn't care.

When they were finally finished, they all stood and threw away their plates and napkins. They turned to walk away when Harry noticed a curious fellow wearing a purple suit and bright yellow tie and beret reading a newspaper on a bench. The man casually tucked the paper under his arm and stood up. There was also a woman wearing a polka dotted dress and tall hat with several peacock feathers in the band leaning against a wall by the fountains. One floor up was a man wearing a business suit and a bathrobe overtop, looking down at them, fiddling with something small, a pen perhaps.

"How many have you noticed?" Fate asked quietly.

"The man with the paper," Harry said.

"The woman in polka dots with the big hat," Vivio chimed.

"The man in the bathrobe on the next floor," Harry finished.

His Okaasan nodded. "There's also the man in the green trench coat and a toolbox a few stores down."

"And a woman by the exit wearing a nightgown," Nanoha added. "I wonder why security hasn't noticed her."

"How do you know the man with the toolbox is after us?" Vivio asked.

"His coat is too small and the toolbox still has a bunch of tags on it, and he keeps acting like he's looking for the right tool, even though he is not dressed as a repairman, nor is he near anything that looks like it needs repaired," Fate explained. She looked at Nanoha. "I trust you and Vivio will call if something happens."

"And I trust the same of you and Harry," Nanoha replied with a nod. "Well then, Vivio, let's go after those ribbons, alright? We can meet Harry and your Fate-mama at the bookstore when we're done."

They parted ways, the man in the purple suit following Nanoha and Vivio, the rest trailing after Fate and Harry. If there had been any doubt that they were after him, those doubts were gone. Of course, they might also be interested in Fate. She did threaten that Merlin lookalike.

Well, it could be worse, like that time a girl stalked him for a month in an attempt to win his heart and become Fate's daughter in law so she would have a chance to seduce her. How she had come up with that particular plan, and why she thought it would work, Harry decided he would rather not know. The thought process of the fan-girls that were always vying for his mothers' attention was very clearly no-man's-land.

The bookstore was quiet, as bookstores are wont to be. "I'll be over in the baking section," Fate said. That the cooking section was conveniently located in the front of the store where she could carefully monitor who came in probably played a considerable role in why she chose to linger there. That she chose the baking section in particular indicated she planned on looking for something to help her in her never ending quest to learn how to bake—Nanomum's family teased her for her lack of baking abilities. It irked her to no end. The result was many disastrous baking attempts where the kitchen either caught fire or the food was inedible, usually both.

Harry gave her a little smile and a wave, and wandered off to the murder mystery section. He spent so much time around magic, it was nice to find something completely unrelated. On his way, he saw a girl about his age with bushy brown hair standing on the bottom ledge of one of the shelves, trying to reach a book.

Being raised to be polite by his mothers, Harry could not simply walk away. With a little sigh, he made his way to the girl. She remained oblivious until he reached up and deftly grabbed the book she had been reaching for. At least, he hoped it was the right one. "Is this what you wanted?" He asked politely.

"Why yes, thank—" She stopped, her jaw dropping. She was pale and slim, with the look of someone who spent more time reading than sitting in the sun or eating. She continued to stare at him.

Harry coughed, set the book on the shelf, and turned away. "You're welcome," he muttered over his shoulder.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to, I mean, thank you. For the book," she said in a rush.

Harry looked back and nodded. "It was nothing. You looked like you needed some help."

"Yes," she said, nodding awkwardly and biting her lip, her large front teeth more obvious. She took a breath and offered her hand. "I'm Hermione Granger."

Harry hesitated for a moment then took her hand. "I'm Harry, Harry T. Harlaown."

"I'm sorry, Harlaown?"

"Yes," Harry said slowly, shifting uncomfortably.

She looked a little disappointed. "I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

Harry laughed ruefully. "You and everyone else, I think. I've been attracting a lot of weird attention."

Her eyes flickered to his scar then away. "I'll bet," she said softly. "I don't mean to be rude but…your accent. I can't trace it."

He couldn't help chuckling. "Yeah, that. I've moved a lot," he replied. "I've spent my recent years in Japan though." It wasn't a total lie, he had moved a lot. And it did affect his accent. His Japanese had an English accent, his Mid-Childan had a Japanese accent, and his English now had a Mid-Childan accent, though he could not explain the latter to her. His Belkan was a truly horrible blend of all three. He didn't even want to think about how badly he routinely butchered the dialects for the different Summoning Clans.

"Ah, that must be it then," she said, her expression dubious. She probably knew what a Japanese accent sounded like; it was nothing like Mid-Childan.

Harry smiled genially, pretending not to notice. "Yes, well, like I said, I live in Japan, so I'm only visiting."

"Will you be here long?" She asked.

"Probably not," he answered. "My leave is over in a few weeks, then I have to head back to the Academy."

"What school do you attend?" She seemed very interested in his answer.

"It's a military academy," he answered evasively. She crinkled her nose. "It's sort of a family thing, my going there," he explained. "A lot of my family went through the Academy, my mothers, my aunts, my uncle, my grandmother, my grandfather." He shrugged.

"Your father?" She asked casually.

"Don't have a father," he replied.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry about it. I don't ever remember having a father." He smiled charmingly. This would be an interesting test. She had missed it the first time, it would be interesting to see if she would catch it this time and what her reaction would be. "My mothers both do an excellent job with me and my sister."

A beat.

"I see," she said, smiling. It was a little forced, but she seemed more shocked than disgusted. Good. Harry liked this girl, for whatever reason, but would not hesitate to leave if she said something disapproving about his family. He felt himself relax a little.

"So," she said, uncomfortably fiddling with the hem of her shirt. "What does the T stand for?"

"Pardon?"

"The T. You said your name was Harry T. Harlaown. What does the T stand for?"

He smirked. "Unofficially it stands for Takamachi, but in truth it stands for Tes—"

"Fate-mama is officially adorable," Vivio chimed, coming up behind him. "She knows she can't bake, but she is determined to learn for—oh hello. Are you one of my brother's newly acquired stalkers?"

"Why don't you take a walk, Your Majesty?" He snapped.

Vivio scowled, looking mutinous. "What have I told you about calling me that? I have no problem telling Nanoha-mama!"

Years of training kept Harry from wincing, though he was sorely tempted. "And what has Nanomum told you about butting in during someone else's conversation?" He asked in return, and then turned back to Hermione Granger. "I'm sorry, I've been terribly rude. This is my sister, Takamachi Vivio. Feel free to ignore her; I usually do, especially when she's being obnoxious."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Vivio," Hermione said, voice laced with amusement. She started then; she must have gotten a good look at Vivio's eyes. She never failed to get a reaction when she looked someone in the eye. Fortunately, she took Vivio's eye coloring in stride, muttering something about 'a trick of the light' before smiling genially and offering her hand in welcome.

He was relieved that she seemed to be fairly open-minded. He'd had enough run-ins on Mid-Childa with close-minded powerful mages who thought him to be a disgrace because he was not powerful himself. It was a situation his mothers often handled for him. Handling, of course, usually entailed the words 'Starlight Breaker' and 'Haken Form'.

"What's with that creepy, dreamy smile of yours?" Vivio demanded.

Harry looked over at her. "Just thinking about Okaasan and Nanomum," he replied easily. Hermione gave him an odd look, her face clearly stating that she did not want to know what going through his mind, but Vivio nodded along, understanding.

Harry shifted uncomfortably for a moment. He didn't like Hermione's reaction to his response. He tried to rationalize the situation to himself. Why should she respond any other way? It wasn't like she understood how important family was in general, nor how important family was to him specifically. Vivio understood, but then, she'd been just as lost as he once upon a time.

"Harry, Vivio," Fate called coming up from behind him. Harry turned and smiled at his Okaasan, but jerked around when he heard a clatter. Hermione, now staring at his Okaasan in abject horror, had dropped the books she'd been holding.

Vivio stiffened; Harry's expression hardened. No. This he could not allow. He turned away from her sharply, stood on tip-toe—Fate was tall—and kissed her cheek. "Okaasan," he greeted.

"Fate-mama," Vivio chimed, doing the same.

Fate glanced at her children, stepped forward, knelt—Hermione Granger had pressed herself against the shelf as Fate approached—and collected the fallen books. She offered them to the girl, who stood, frozen in terror. Fate coughed uncomfortably and set them on the shelf beside her. Through the entire exchange, if it could be called such, Harry and Vivio scowled at the girl. They cleared their expressions when Fate started to turn back to them.

"Have you collected the book you wanted, Harry?" She asked, her soft voice quieter.

"Sorry, Okaasan, I was distracted. I'll get it now, if that is alright."

Hermione Granger looked between them in utter confusion. Harry almost sighed with regret. She'd seemed so smart, given that she'd been trying for a book on calculus when he'd walked up. Perhaps she was only book smart, and lacked common sense altogether. More's the pity. Still, it was odd that he had been interested in getting to know her at all; he was notorious at the Academy for not liking anyone outside of his family.

"Hurry along then, Nanoha is waiting for us by the counter," she said, gently tucking a stray lock behind Vivio's ear.

Harry wasted no time in turning away and collecting the books he wanted. Normally he would only have gotten one—he was a frugal fellow—but he was anxious to get out of the store, so he grabbed the two he'd been debating between. Fate wouldn't complain, she'd probably be happy. She loved buying things for him and Vivio. Erio and Caro, too, but they were rarely around.

He approached the counter only to find Fate talking with Hermione Granger. The brunette was standing a few feet away, hugging her books to her chest like a shield, and she looked for all the world like she would rather be anywhere else. Vivio, standing behind Fate, was scowling at her. Nanoha seemed confused. Judging by the look on her face though, she did not care for the younger brunette. She did not care for anyone who did not treat Fate with the utmost respect. Hermione's hesitancy toward her would be damning as far as Nanoha was concerned. It was the same for Vivio. It was certainly true for him.

Harry himself was not sure in this case. She was talking with Okaasan, which was something. There was effort involved, quite a bit of it from the way she was trembling where she stood. Alas, he would never see her again, and it would take more than this meager effort to earn his forgiveness.

"Can I have these, Okaasan?" He asked, showing her the two books.

She smiled warmly and accepted them with a nod. She handed them to the cashier and paid when prompted. No one spoke to Hermione Granger. Vivio scowled at her though. Harry chose to pretend she was not standing there. Nanoha was smirking at the man wearing a plum colored suit and his yellow tie and beret. She gave him a little wave. He covered his face with the newspaper. Nanoha giggled.

"I'll see you around, Harry," Hermione Granger called after him.

"I doubt that," he replied coolly, not bothering to turn and look at her. He did, however, hear her reply as he walked away.

"I don't."

-THE PHOTO ALBUM-

_SNAP!_

There is a photo of a woman and a child working in a garden. They are not close, the boy at one end, the woman at the other. Their backs are to the photographer. The woman is rubbing her arm across her forehead, likely wiping sweat from her brow. The boy's head is down. He is small and thin, looking to be about five.

The back reads: _In the garden, backyard. _

_Harry (6) and Nanoha (20)._

Far from England, on the distant planet called Mid-Childa, stands a quaint little house. It is called the Takamachi-Harlaown residence.

The front yard is small and plain. The backyard is a little bigger but filled, for the most part, with a garden. There are no flowers—how impractical—only vegetables. A brunette woman, Nanoha, tends to the garden every day. She takes immaculate care of her little garden, even when there is little to do. She enjoys inspecting each bloom, searching diligently for imperfections that need to be pruned, pulling weeds.

She, her best friend, and their adopted children had moved into this house less than a month before. Previously, she'd grown her vegetables in window boxes. It was largely ineffective, with the little plants unable to truly stretch and grow. Here, in this garden, they have flourished.

Nanoha works in her garden early in the mornings, when the sun is only beginning to rise. It is the only time she has for her gardening, really, since there is so much work to do. She is, however, keenly aware of the emerald eyes watching her every morning. Such tired emerald eyes, peering tentatively out from the smallest of openings between two curtains.

The boy, whom Fate has told her is named Harry, has never spoken to Nanoha, even though he has lived with her for over a year now. He rarely speaks at all, and only to the blonde woman named Fate, who rescued him. But every morning, Nanoha feels him watching her. She does not try to catch his eye, does not invite him into her garden. She will wait for him to come to her. This goes against her nature, but Harry is Fate's adopted son, and Fate believes that they should not force him, that they need to let him choose for himself.

"Please, Nanoha, just let him decide when to talk to us. It's important," Fate asked. Nanoha didn't understand, still doesn't, but she agreed anyway. It is frustrating, and sometimes she wants to take the boy and shake him (much kinder than a Starlight Breaker, she feels), make him listen, but Fate has forbidden this. Not with words, for Fate would never do such a thing, but with her eyes, beautiful crimson eyes they beg for understanding. Nanoha pushes aside her frustration in favor of patience.

Now, after one month of living in this house, she hears the soft, tentative squish of shoes on dewy grass. She does not turn, though it is a trial to force herself to relax when her battle-honed instincts are telling her to turn and see who is approaching. She already knows. She does not need to verify his identity. He must come to her. She must not force him.

From the corner of her eye, she sees him crouch at the opposite end of the garden. He slowly reaches out, watching her, unaware that she is watching him in return. He touches something, tugs at it, pulls it free. She cannot stop herself from looking to see what is in his hand. He freezes, frail little body trembling slightly, eyes squeezed shut, lips pursed. In his hand, he holds a weed. She waits for him to open an eye and before he can close it again, she smiles warmly and goes back to her work.

Nanoha works in silence, slowly making her way to the other side, to Harry, who is focused on the little section he has chosen for himself. Nanoha finishes and watches. Harry is finished as well, but he is going over his work again. Nanoha thinks he is doing this to be sure he won't be punished for some imagined imperfection. She stands, patiently, and waits for him to rise. He does, on trembling legs.

"Thank you," she tells him, "I would still be working if you hadn't helped me so much."

Harry does not look at her, but he nods once. They do not touch as they walk into the house. No words pass between them. But the next morning, while Nanoha is working in her garden, she hears the soft, tentative squish of shoes on dewy grass.

-chapter end-

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha/Mahou Shojou Lyrical Nanoha.

A/N: Okay, question on the PHOTO ALBUM. Does it work? Is it ridiculous? Should I remove the PHOTOS, keep putting them in? Any feedback would be great.

It occurred to me that some might not be up on the vocabulary. I do not speak Japanese, so I've been looking these up online. However, I have a key of words that will pop up (not necessarily in every chapter) for your convenience.

(O)kaasan-mother

(O)baasan-grandmother

(O)jiisan-grandfather

(O)nee-chan-big sister

(O)touto-little brother

Musuko-son

Musume-daughter

Au revoir,

Hatter


	3. Part One, Chapter Three

Magecraft and Wizardry

Part One: The Misfit Mage

Chapter Three: Surprises

The journey back to Graham Manor was silent, and the large house was quiet when they returned. Vita was lounging in the grandiose living room, Zafira curled up on the floor, sleeping. "Shamal is looking after the Old Man," Vita said. She refused to call him anything other than Old Man. Harry didn't know why, but he suspected there was a reason. With Vita, there always was. "Rein is with Hayate, and Signum is being her usual sociable self and meditating in her room."

She looked at Harry. "Happy birthday. I was going to get you a cake, but I figured I would let your mother bake one for you." There was a dark, knowing glint in her eyes. Fate's inability to bake anything was almost legend by now.

Nanoha shivered, and looked at the book Fate had purchased for herself; it was on baking, naturally.

"Perhaps another time," Fate said. "We ran into a…peculiar situation."

Vita sat up, her expression sobering. "Peculiar situation, eh? Sounds problematic. Should I rally the troops?"

"I think that might be best, if you don't mind," Nanoha agreed.

"Can you give me the gist of what's going on?"

"Harry has stalkers," Vivio declared. "Mostly men in dresses and bathrobes."

"Forget I asked." Vita stood. She looked down at Zafira and wandered off, probably in search of the other Knights. Zafira padded over to Harry. It wasn't hard to figure out why, not after Vivio's declaration. Harry supposed he would not be alone for a long time. Zafira may even sleep in his room when he finally went to bed. Not that he would sleep. He was in England, after all, and Harry always had problems sleeping, even when he was home.

Deciding there was nothing to do for the moment, he sat on the couch Vita had vacated, Zafira trailing after him. He pulled out one of his books and began to read. He was only halfway through the prologue when a vid-window popped up. He lowered his book and grinned.

"Obaasan," he said warmly. His mothers must have known she would call, and that was why they wanted to hurry along the shopping. It was a pleasant surprise.

"Happy birthday, Harry," Lindy Harlaown chimed cheerfully. She kept her voice low, so Harry could only assume she knew the state Mister Graham was in. Still keeping her voice soft, she proceeded to grill him about his day. She giggled over his breakfast choice and snorted mirthfully when Harry described Nanoha falling asleep shortly after the movie began. While she was only mildly curious about his run-ins with the odd people in the Leaky Cauldron and the people following him, she was enthralled by his encounter with the girl, Hermione Granger.

"Are you dating?" She demanded. There was a disturbingly excited twinkle in her eyes. Harry knew he should not have allowed the conversation to flow into such dangerous territory. His grandmother could be more than a little manic over things like this.

"No, Lindy-Obaasan. We only met the once, and I'll never see her again. And she was not very nice to Okaasan anyway, so I have no interest in seeing her again."

"But you talked to her. You never talk to girls outside of the family. Harry, my beautiful grandchild, you _talked_ to a _girl_ and you said more than four words. So be honest with me, are you dating? You can tell me."

As luck would have it, Momoko and Shiro came into view. It was planned, he guessed, for them to call him on his birthday. Since the Takamachi family didn't have the same connections Lindy did, he supposed he was only natural for them to gather there.

They exchanged greetings, and Momoko informed him she sent a cake along. That she sent it to spare him from Fate's attempts at baking went unsaid, but the message was implied. Harry didn't mind. Until the topic turned back to Hermione Granger. As the first girl Harry had shown any interest in, his grandmothers had latched onto her.

"You can't blame me Harry," Momoko said while Shiro rolled his eyes behind her. "Kyoya seems content to date Shinobu-san until the end of time, Miyuki can't keep a boyfriend for more than two weeks because she spars with them and scares them off, and your Nanomum, well, she's…Special."

Lindy nodded fervently. "Mm, and Chrono and Amy eloped, and Fate is…special…too. Very special."

Special. What a politically correct way to describe his mothers' relationship.

Shiro held something in his hand, a checkbook it looked like. He must have been balancing his budget. Taking a page from his grandfather's book, he picked up his own and read—carefully keeping his book of out view—while his grandmothers planned his wedding to a girl they'd never met and he'd never see again. He didn't mind, though, rather enjoyed their chatter while he read.

Although he liked the chatter, Lindy and Momoko really should not be allowed to spend time together, Harry thought. Bad things tended to happen. Like wedding preparations. Well, at least they were enjoying themselves. Let them have their fantasies. At the rate his mothers were going, his grandmothers needed something to give them hope.

A flash of yellow light caught his attention. "And that will be the cake!" Momoko cheered.

"Harry!"

"Arf!" He grinned in reply, setting his book aside.

Arf, who looked so child-like in her human form anymore, pranced over to him, cake in hand. Her ears waggled. "So, did you forget your birthday again?"

"Of course he did, Arf, he forgets it every year." Lindy smiled warmly at him and winked. "He comes by it honestly—he gets it from Fate." Harry smiled crookedly at her, he couldn't help it. Fate was notorious for forgetting her birthday.

One time she had worked long into the night, completely unaware of the surprise party Aunt Hayate had planned. She'd been terribly embarrassed when she finally came home in the wee hours of the morning to nearly two dozen people sleeping in her living room with banners wishing her a happy birthday overhead; she still didn't understand they were for her until Nanoha explained it. Another year she'd left work early and made them all a nice dinner—complete with all of their favorites—to surprise them when they got home. Nanoha had, of course, made reservations for her favorite restaurant. In the end, Aunt Hayate and the Wolkenritter ate her dinner while the Takamachi-Harlaown family went out.

Everyone swore off surprising her after that.

Harry was the same, despite not having a single genetic trait in common with his Okaasan. Every year, without fail, he forgot his birthday. He would go about his day like it was any other and was always surprised when he found out what day it was. He never forgot his mothers' nor his sister's birthdays, Erio's, Caro's or even his uncle's, cousins', grandparents or Aunt Hayate's. No, it was only his own. He was always teased about it, but it had never bothered him; it was something else he shared with Fate.

And so Harry endured several memory related old age jokes at his expense, and accepted them gracefully and with good humor. It was what his Okaasan would have done, after all, what she had done a thousand times before when the family teased her about forgetting her birthday, and he strived to emulate her. He talked with his extended family, which was easier since they had dropped the wedding subject.

Arf disappeared at some point, he didn't know where she went, but he assumed she was off to see his Okaasan, taking the cake with her. He gave an internal sigh. He wanted that. Not Arf, per se, but a familiar. He wasn't powerful enough to actually maintain one, not really, nor did he know the rituals to bind a living being to him, but he longed for that unfaltering devotion. No, that wasn't right. Arf was devoted to Fate, certainly, but that was incidental. Their bond was more than that; there was love and trust and a sense of knowing that if one fell, the other would be there.

Harry had never told anyone in his family, but he wanted that security. Another leftover from his time with the Dursleys. He had his Device, true, but it was different. The relationship between a mage and his or her Device was forged from the start. Glaive was designed for him, but Glaive did not choose him. It was the same with his Unison Device, Nygma, who had been his companion since Harry was eleven, but not even Nygma was here now. He was off being repaired after the last _incident_, along with Agito. It would be at least six more days before either Unison Device was able to come to UnAdministered Planet 97. But a familiar…

Magically he would be weakened, but oh, to have an eternal companion, someone who would never leave him, always help him in day to day matters, never betray him, and always watch his back in a fight. At the same time, he knew it was not easy. He would be bound to another living being, but what if his familiar's personality clashed with his own? How would he support a familiar with his own meager magic? What would he do if his companion died? How was he supposed to teach his familiar to control his or her magic when his own grasp of magic was so tenuous? He didn't even want to think of how he would raise his familiar if it was young.

No, a familiar was beyond him, especially now, when his was magic was so weak. Besides, he consoled himself, he didn't even know the spell.

So Harry pushed the thought aside and talked and laughed with his family, absently petting Zafira (who would never admit to enjoying the attention). Afterward he wandered in to the kitchen, Zafira padding along behind him, where the cake was sitting. It was a Midori-ya special, and he had no idea what kind of cake it was, but it was sure to be delicious.

A breeze blew by him. He looked up, a little puzzled, and saw the window was open. He nodded absently to himself. It wasn't really surprising. Nanoha had a habit of opening windows wherever she went, regardless of the weather. No one in his family would say exactly why she always did that, and the quirk was so habitual that he had never questioned it. Still, seeing her do it somewhere other than their home (where they primarily lived below ground, but she still did it when they decided to go above ground) struck him as odd.

He supposed it was another family mystery. It wasn't that he was forbidden to talk about things or ask questions, as with the Dursleys, but there were topics that he sensed made his mothers incredibly uncomfortable. He'd asked Fate, once, why Nanoha always opened windows or wanted to be in spacious rooms. Her answer had been that Nanoha had been in a terrible accident years before. She could handle enclosed spaces for short periods of time or if she was distracted, but for the most part she needed fresh air or to see the sky. He hadn't quite understood how that related or why she would live underground if she needed the sun so much, but she'd looked so sad, and her hands had trembled so much that he hadn't pressed the issue.

A beetle fluttered in through the window. Harry frowned at it and quickly pushed aside his instinct to smash it. He didn't like bugs, courtesy of an incident with Lutecia's Summons, but his family had a strict policy on death; kill only when necessary. It was a solemn rule, one that was enforced even when it came to something as simple as a bug.

"Mm, think anyone will notice if we sneak a piece now?"

Harry chuckled and turned to his sister. She was eyeing his cake. She loved sweets. "I wouldn't mind, but you know Okaasan and Nanomum would notice something like that."

She sighed mournfully. "You're right. I guess." She looked over at him, the playfulness slipping away. Vivio looked at him for a long moment. "We won't let them take you," she said firmly. "I'll knock them out myself if they come back, just you watch. Well, I will provided Aunt Signum doesn't slice them up, or Aunt Vita doesn't crush them with Graf Eisen, or hey, Fate-mama might get there first and ask for a sparring match, or Nanoha-mama might ask to talk with them. That's always fun. There may not be anything left by the time I get there, unless Aunt Shamal patches them back up, but I will definitely knock them out if they are still standing."

Harry chuckled. "Thanks, Viv."

She groaned. "Eugh, how many times do I have to tell you not to call me that? I can knock you out too, you know."

"You wouldn't do that, you love me!" He said with a grin.

Vivio scoffed. "You think I do."

"Happy birthday, young Harry," a voice rasped. Harry and Vivio quickly turned to the other side of the room where Gil Graham stood, supported by his twin familiars and Aunt Hayate. "I know it is rather early, but perhaps you'll indulge an old man and celebrate a little earlier than usual."

The rest of the family filed in, the Knights, his Nanomum and finally his Okaasan. Fate froze in the doorway. She frowned. Her eyes flickered about. She scowled. She made her way to the window just as the beetle flew away and looked around outside. She stepped back and shut the window, locking it tightly. No one asked why. Sometimes his Okaasan did strange things like that, and while his Nanomum, Arf and Signum seemed to know, he and Vivio remained in the dark. Yet another family mystery. He would ask about it one day, when he thought he was ready to hear the answer.

Everyone quietly wished him a happy birthday. Signum clapped him on the back, Vita punched him in the shoulder, Nanomum gave him a hug and ruffled his hair (he smoothed it down with a playful scowl) and his Okaasan kissed his forehead, right on his scar. She was the only one willing to touch it; even Nanomum and Vivio shied away from it. Part of Harry always wondered if she didn't mind it because it was shaped like a lightning bolt.

They sang to him. There was Nanomum's off-key warble, there was Aunt Signum's solemn recitation of the lyrics (they sounded more like a chant, and naturally she replaced "happy birthday dear Harry" with "happy birthday young Harlaown"), there was Aunt Hayate's mockingly high voice, drowning out the rest. Underneath it all, he could faintly hear his Okaasan singing, her already quiet voice even softer. It was lovely. Later, if he asked, she would sing just for him. It was a birthday tradition of sorts, and if he were honest, it was his favorite part.

He did not blow out any candles—that was a Western phenomenon, since birthdays were typically not recognized at all in Japan, with the exception of a few notable years. Besides that, birthday celebrations were entirely unheard of on Mid-Childa and Belka. Considering all of that, he never quite understood why everyone insisted on celebrating his, Vivio's and Fate's birthdays. Well, at least Vivio always remembered her birthday, unlike him and Fate.

They finally cut into the cake—it was divine. It was some kind of turtle cake, with caramel and chocolate drizzle with pecans on top, and the cake itself was made with a rich cocoa and coffee flavoring. His birthday was, all in all, rather tame, which he preferred. He liked quiet celebrations, even though Gil Graham made the situation slightly awkward—he was doing better, but his hands trembled, he didn't eat or drink, and he wheezed. Harry didn't hold it against the man, and he fully recognized that it would have been just as odd if it was not his birthday.

Then there was a knowing silence, an exchange of knowing looks, and Fate stepped forward. He leaned back in his seat so that he could look at her properly. Silently, she handed him a small sheaf of folded pages. He unfolded them carefully. The front page was a carefully drawn spell circle, unlike any he had seen before. The next page made the blood drain from his face.

"Okaasan, I don't under—"

He looked up and found Arf (part of him felt guilty for not even realizing she'd been gone most of the time) holding a Mid-Childan wolf pup. It was white with red eyes and a pale blue jewel on its forehead, an albino. It would have been killed in the wild. How did they get it?

"—stand," he concluded faintly.

"I want you to think very hard about this, Harry," Fate said softly. "Having a familiar is big responsibility." She set her hand on his shoulder. "I think you are up to it or I would not have given you the spell to begin with, but I want you to decide if it is something you want. Try keeping him as a pet for now, you may like it. Remember, if you make him your familiar, even if you release him from his contract and return him to his animal state, his mind will be forever changed. That is only one of many factors you will need to consider."

She smoothed his hair and smiled at him as Arf handed him the cub with a grin. "Fate has been calling him Woof. I like it." It was not a subtle hint.

Vita made a sound somewhere between a giggle and a snort.

"You can change it if you like," Fate offered.

Harry grinned and shook his head. He stroked the pup's downy fur. It was still soft, but he knew it would become coarser as he aged. "Woof is a good name, isn't it Woof?" The pup looked at him, sneezed, and licked his face. Harry grinned rather goofily at everyone.

What a beautiful day.

—MaW—

Padfoot snuffled around, whined at people, and trembled dramatically, all in the hopes of finding something to eat. He was far from starving—he'd learned the right people to whimper at to get something (relatively) nice to eat. It was far from the lavish meals he used to get in his youth, but it was better than the slop served in Azkaban.

He was pawing at the side door of a kindly old witch—she always gave him scraps—when he heard the name "Harry Potter" whispered for the first time in years. He'd heard, of course, that Harry Potter had been missing for eight years, that he'd simply vanished. Sirius had followed the papers as avidly as he could while the manhunt, instigated by a frantic Dumbledore, for the missing five year old went on. As soon as he had his vengeance against that traitorous rat, he would seek out his godson, find him, protect him.

But now with the whispers circulating, he wondered if something had happened, if a new lead had been uncovered. He trailed behind them, seeking to sate a very different hunger. What he learned horrified him, and he quickly abandoned them in favor of finding a copy of the Evening Prophet. Finally, he found one. The picture of his godson—sitting in some sort of cafeteria, looking surprised—made the front page, and he appeared healthy, but an article that began with a warning about graphic content was never good.

As he read, his horror increased tenfold. It painted a picture of barbarians keeping him prisoner. A violent girl named Viv threatened to hit him, to knock him out. There were threats about an Aunt Sigmund (who named a woman Sigmund?) and an Aunt Veeta slicing and crushing people. There were reports of someone called Aunt Shahmall sewing people together.

Then he read about the red-eyed woman who called Harry her son, who threatened the great Albus Dumbledore in the Leaky Cauldron, who declared she would cut off his hand. The article kindly pointed out to those who did not know that red eyes had long been one of the primary indications of a Dark Arts practitioner.

The reporter, a witch named Rita Skeeter, called for justice. She called for the aurors to be dispatched to the London house (she did not say exactly where in London, nor did she say how she knew where he was) to rescue him. Reports indicated that he complied with every demand the red-eyed woman made, so he was probably brainwashed. The hero of the wizarding world needed to be rehabilitated. The savior needed to be saved.

Padfoot ran, and did not stop until he reached London.

—MaW—

Woof, Harry quickly learned, did not play. He did not run, he did not prance, he did not whine or whimper. He did not act at all like the dogs he had seen in the park. He was solemn, silent, and ever present. He was obedient for the most part. Harry liked that.

As much as he loved Arf, and he did since she'd been helping look after him for years, he found her too energetic. She was too vocal, always moving, a constant whirlwind of sound and motion. He loved her dearly, but sometimes she was a bit too much for him. She and Vivio had hit it off, but he'd always preferred Zafira.

Zafira had apparently looked after Vivo until he came along, and Arf had looked after his cousins. With his arrival, however, Arf was needed to help her Mistress with her children. Vivio and Arf would play all manner of games while Harry watched, Zafira at his feet.

Woof was not like Zafira, not really, since Woof was still a little feral—he'd tried to bite the Liese twins twice now—but Harry liked him. Woof may be wild, but he had attached himself to Harry just fine, and seemed to be a loyal friend.

Harry studied the pages his Okaasan had given him, had memorized them, but did not know if Woof was meant to be his familiar. Truth be told, he rather liked having a dog, and he did not see a reason for him to go that far, not yet. He did not know the exact circumstances surrounding his Okaasan and her familiar, but he did know that Fate bound Arf to her as a way to save her life. That seemed a better reason to cast the spell than loneliness.

And really, wasn't Woof already his companion? It would take training, and he would not be able to use magic, but Woof was already loyal to him, despite only having been in his company for a few hours. Yes, he would keep Woof as he was. If something changed, it would be easy enough to make the wolf his familiar.

Harry nodded to himself, sure of his decision, and scratched the wolf pup behind his ears. He was sure his Okaasan would be pleased as well. He did not think she'd given him the spell as a test, but rather as an offer. She liked to be sure he always had options available to him, knowing that choices were important. And, Harry knew, the option would always be there.

For the moment, however, it was time for bed. His Okaasan had already come to sing for him; it was a lovely song about Woof curled up at the foot of the bed—Zafira was outside the door, he was sure—while Harry slipped under the blankets. He lay back, not expecting to sleep, not much anyway, but willing to rest his eyes. He might sleep a little, he told himself, since he'd had such a long day, and he'd sparred with Signum as well. Yes, he might sleep.

-THE PHOTO ALBUM-

_SNAP!_

There is a photo of a woman sitting on the edge of a bed. She is wearing a black nightshirt with a black silken robe overtop. In her arms, she is holding a child. It's a boy, wrapped tightly in a blanket with only his face and some of his messy black hair visible. Through the part of the window that is visible, a jagged bolt of lightning is visible, illuminating their faces. He is sleeping, his face pale and drawn, and tear tracks still visible on his face. Her lips are pressed against his forehead, right beside a lightning bolt shaped scar.

The back reads: _Upstairs, Harry's old room. _

_Harry (6) and Fate (20)._

Far from England, on the distant planet called Mid-Childa, stands a quaint little house. It is called the Takamachi-Harlaown residence.

The house is sturdily built and soundproof, but that does not stop the bright flashes of lightning from casting shadows on the wall. For Harry, who moved into this house just over a month ago, this is terrifying. In his last house, in Japan, there were never any storms, and if there were he was not there to see them. Before that, in his old house—it was not a home, it was a house—he slept in a cupboard under the stairs. He could not see the lightning from his cupboard. He remembers hearing his cousin crying and hearing the thud-thud-thud of his cousin running to his parents' room. Harry can only guess they comforted him.

No one has ever comforted Harry during storms. He has never needed comfort. He could not see the lightning when he was in his cupboard and the thunder was muffled and less frightening then when his cousin trampled down the stairs over Harry's head, making the dust fall in his eyes. No, he has never needed comfort during a storm. He wishes someone would comfort him now though.

He is in his own room—he has a room!—and he is afraid of the bright light, of the shadows the light casts on the unfamiliar walls. He is terrified and he is alone. He whimpers softly and pulls his blanket tightly around him—he has already wrapped it around him, even pulled it up over his head—and squeezes his eyes closed with such force that he can see spots and swirls of color. The little bracelet he wears—it is a little blue triangle they call a Device, but it is not an Intelligent Device (he does not know the difference)—catches on the blanket. He wants to untangle it, because it is pulling on his wrist and it is uncomfortable, but that would mean opening his eyes, and he is too afraid.

Then there is a warm hand on his trembling shoulder, and his feels himself being lifted. He opens his eyes and blinks through the spots and swirls of color. Fate. She is sitting on the edge of his bed with him in her lap. Her arms are wrapped around him, holding him close. His head rests on her chest, his sweaty forehead is pressed against her neck, but she does not seem to notice. She simply holds him and rocks him slowly, back and forth, back and forth.

She whispers to him in Japanese. She has forgotten that he only speaks English. He doesn't mind. He remembers Uncle Vernon telling a joke about the Japanese. He thinks it involves gulfs or golf or something. Uncle Vernon always made fun of the way they talked too. Harry finds the language beautiful, especially when Fate speaks it, and desperately wants to learn to speak it himself.

Harry realizes, then, that he is being comforted. For the first time in his life—he does not remember his drunkard parents, so any comfort they may or may not have given him does not count—he is comforted when he frightened. Aunt Petunia told him to stop being such a baby. Uncle Vernon threatened to give him a reason to cry if he doesn't stop right now. Dudley teased him.

He cries. Sobs wrack his body, his nose is running, and he cannot stop his tears. Sleep is now a Bad Thing. He is afraid. It is not because of the storm, not anymore. He is afraid that he will go to sleep and wake up back in his cupboard. He is afraid that, any minute now, Uncle Vernon will come at him with his belt for crying too loudly. He is afraid that Fate, whispering soft words in his ears, gently cradling him against her and holding him securely, is not real.

He is afraid that this is a dream, and he has never been so terrified in his life.

-chapter end-

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha/Mahou Shojou Lyrical Nanoha.

A/N: So much anger for Hermione! I will say this on the matter: Harry is different because he has been with his family since he was five, and Hermione is different because she has not had Harry in her life (arguably her best friend in the books) for the last three years. Please be patient and wait for the story to unfold. I am not in the habit of changing people without a solid reason.

It looks like the PHOTO ALBUM is a keeper. I have it marked so that people who are not interested may skip it. The ALBUM meant to further characterization, not plot. Harry, for instance, can be pretty creepy in how he deals with his family, especially Fate. The PHOTOS are there to clarify this more.

This will be very long. I finished part one, which is eight chapters and just over 40,000 words. I plan on seven parts, to parallel the HP books. Part one is a shorter parts of the story. I am thorough, so the story may be slow at points. For example, I spent three chapters covering one day. I apologize if some of it is boring.

Also, I have been operating Beta-free. If anyone is interested, please send me a PM; I would rather not have offers made in reviews. I have a more comprehensive list of duties for a Beta in my profile, so please look before you leap?

Lastly, I do not know when I will be able to update next. I have papers due for school and I will be moving soon. Plus, if anyone wants to Beta for me, I will be working with that person to refine what I have written. So yeah, posting may be erratic in the future. Until then, please read and review.

Au revoir,

Hatter


	4. Part One, Chapter Four

Magecraft and Wizardry

Part One: The Misfit Mage

Chapter Four: Black

Harry sat on a park bench, Woof at his feet, and yawned. He had finished a rather pleasant jog and was resting for a bit before he went back to Graham Manor. Woof had kept pace with him the entire run, something that Harry very much enjoyed. Ostensibly he was alone, but the rest of his family was nearby, keeping an eye on him while giving him some small measure of privacy.

It was a nice enough day, the weather agreeable, the air crisp. He supposed he would have been better able to appreciate it had he gotten more than an hour's sleep the night before. He was uncomfortable enough, being in England, but it was made worse by what Vivio referred to as his stalkers. Shamal's barriers and Woof's presence had soothed him only slightly. Rest remained elusive.

He was still a little sore from his sparring match with Signum the evening before—she'd shown him no mercy, not even on his birthday—but that was normal, all things considered. He just wished he'd been able to get her to break a sweat while she was thrashing him, and leave him at least a little of his pride. It did not affect his morning run, though, since he was used to it.

He stretched out his legs and watched, amused, as Arf tried to play with Woof. Woof ignored her and looked up at him with a long suffering look; he was obviously used to this sort of thing, having been in her care for the last few days. She pranced, she pawed, she did her level best to get his attention. Woof sat, unmoved. He wondered what the pup would be like as a familiar, which made him wonder what Arf had been like before she was contracted to his mother.

"Arf," he said, catching her attention. "What were you like before? Before you became a familiar, I mean."

She looked up at him, looked around to be sure no one could hear, and answered. "I don't really remember. It was a long time ago, and I was a pup myself when she took me on. And I was dying. I had an infection, a disease, something like that, and there was no cure for it. My pack abandoned me when I was infected, and that was not long after I first started to eat meat."

"So you were only a month old or so when she found you."

Arf yipped her agreement and rested her head on his leg. "She's my alpha, my pack, and as her pup, you're pack too."

Harry smiled down at her and was about to reply when Woof started growling. Arf moved in front of them and silenced Woof with a look. She was still in her puppy form, but Woof had long since learned that she outranked him in the hierarchy of canines.

A black dog appeared, stepping out from the shadows of the bushes. Its coat was in desperate need of a brushing, its paws were muddy, its body was thin; he could see the beast's ribs. The dog trembled but the movement seemed to be one of exhaustion, not fear. Perhaps it had been on the run from the local dog warden.

He stood up and slowly inched toward the dog. It was staring at him. Arf growled and shifted to stand directly in front of him, not the least bit intimidating to passersby, but an animal's instincts were more finely honed than a human's. An animal would be able to sense the magic emanating from the pup, would know that she was not to be trifled with. This dog ignored her, almost like it was completely unaware of her power. Something was off about this dog.

His mothers must have sensed it too, as they were by his side in moments. Fate held Nanoha in her arms, so Harry assumed she'd used her Sonic Move and carried Nanoha with her to reach him so quickly. The dog looked at them and snarled, hackles raised.

"Who is your master?" Fate demanded. "I know you must be a familiar of some kind—I can sense your magic. Who is your master?" She demanded again. "And what do you want with my son?"

This drove the dog into a frenzy; he attacked. Vivio finally caught up just as the dog leaped at Fate. No one bothered to intervene, since it would just be a waste of effort. Enforcer Harlaown routinely took down powerful mages with minimal effort. Harry felt a bit sorry for it—only a bit, he wasn't overly fond of anyone or anything that attacked his family.

The fight didn't last long. The dog leapt at her, seemingly intent on ripping off her left arm. Unfortunately for the dog, she used a mild Thunder Arm to defend herself, giving it a nasty shock in the process and throwing it several feet away, unconscious. Then the dog did something Harry didn't expect. It shifted into a man.

—MaW—

It had been over a day since the man had attacked Okaasan. The Thunder Arm had knocked him out cold for more than half a day, even after being healed. When he did wake, he said nothing. The family watched him in shifts and tried to get him to talk, but so far, all that they had learned was that he was some kind of mage himself, not a familiar.

Harry had been sitting at the kitchen table Signum and Vivio, playing cards, for three hours. It would be another hour before shift-change, and Vita came to sit with them. He wanted to know what was going on but he also knew that he had to wait, that his mothers would tell him when they learned everything. He just needed to be patient. Patience had never been one of his strong suits, so he was playing cards to pass the time. The only real consolation was that he consistently beat Signum. Given the way she was scowling at the deck and trying to set it on fire, he knew it was a genuine victory.

And so they played one frustrating game of cards after another.

Patience, he told himself, patience. His mothers had decided early on to be upfront with him and Vivio. A psychologist had recommended it as a family exercise to help him with his 'reliance concerns regarding authority figures'. Harry figured it was just a fancy way to say he didn't trust adults. It was true, of course. The Dursleys were cruel, and the neighbors turned a blind eye to his abuse (and he could admit that he had been abused; he wasn't being punished when he was locked away in his cupboard, he was being abused, he knew that now). That single time he had been treated for his sprained wrist (after a rousing game of Harry Hunting) did not see the very clear signs. Not one of them helped him. Why should he trust adults? Fate and Nanoha didn't count, they were still too innocent.

When his mothers had gone to a psychologist for advice, the man suggested honesty. As such, they always explained everything. Some parents might claim that they ruined pieces of his childhood by not allowing him to believe in myths, but Harry always felt otherwise. He never had a reason to doubt his mothers.

The flip side was that he was also expected to be completely honest. It was a fair exchange. If he did not want to talk about something, all he had to do was say he did not want to talk about it, and they would respect that. Honesty was one of the few ironclad rules in his family. He wasn't really sure why—a psychologist's advice did not seem enough of a reason for it. When he'd asked about it, his mothers laughed (Nanomum riotously, Okaasan abashedly), Hayate's Knights groaned good naturedly, and Nanoha informed him that he could avoid a Starlight Breaker if he was just upfront about things. It seemed odd, but he did not argue.

Just as he was dealing another hand for another riveting round of Go Fish, Vivio and Signum looked up over his shoulder. Harry turned. Fate was standing there, arms folded, hands clasping her elbows. She looked like she was hugging herself. Her ashen face did not change his opinion. Beside her, Nanoha stood. Harry had never seen her look so pale. She trembled slightly, and she looked like she was going to be sick at any moment.

"Signum, Hayate will fill you in," his Okaasan said softly. Signum stood and strode out of the room, pausing only once beside the blonde to give her a solitary nod. "Vivio, your Nanoha-mama will speak with you in another room." Vivio gave him a solemn look before leaving with Nanoha. Only Harry and Fate remained.

Silence. Fate sat across from him. She folded her hands. She looked at him then down at the table. She was nervous. No, he realized, it was more than that. She was afraid, terrified even.

"Harry. My son." She took his hand in hers and looked him in the eyes. "It has always been important to me that be allowed to make your own decisions. It is a right that I would never take from you." She took a deep breath. "Knowing that, know that I _will_ abide by your decision."

Knots formed in his stomach.

"The man upstairs is named Sirius Black. He is also a practitioner of magic, but the form he practices is called Wizardry, not Magecraft. It seems there is a community of magic practitioners on this planet, all of them witches and wizards." She paused, refusing to break eye contact. "Before I continue with the rest, you should know that Rein analyzed him while we questioned him, and she believes he was being truthful.

"This man, Sirius Black, claims that you are also a member of this community, that you are a wizard—and that your parents before you were also practitioners of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He told Nanoha an interesting story about your birth parents. If what he claims is true, then your aunt and uncle have lied to you. They were very good people, and they died trying to keep you safe. He says he is your godfather, Harry. He wants to speak with you. If you want to talk to him, I will not stop you. If you want me to go with you, I will. If you want to go alone, I will wait with the others."

Harry stared at her blankly for a long moment. "May I just sit here for a little while? I need to think."

Fate nodded, kissed him lightly on his forehead, right on his scar, and left without another word.

Harry stood and walked dazedly to the window. He looked outside. It was very sunny out. Woof yipped lightly in his sleep. Harry saw the wolf's paws twitch from the corner of his eye. A bird soared overhead then vanished into a tree. A little cloud moved into view. A beetle landed on the window sill.

He felt numb. He didn't know what to think. His aunt and uncle had told him, once, that his parents were useless drunks that wrapped their car around a telephone pole, killing themselves and nearly killing him—his scar was supposedly a token of the shattered windshield. He hated them. He'd hated them for years. The Potters meant nothing to him, and he'd never been happier than the day he became a Harlaown, because it meant he was truly Fate's son and that he was no longer a Potter, no longer the remnant of a family of drunks who refused to work.

He hated them with every fiber of his being, hated them more than the Dursleys themselves. They were worthless alcoholics, and he hated them, and he would never be anything like them. He was a Harlaown, not a Potter, never a Potter.

But that was all a lie. The Dursleys hated magic, and beat the fear of magic into him. If his biological parents were mages—no, a witch and wizard—if they were a witch and wizard, yes, the Dursleys would hate them. Would lie about them. Fate had offered to find his parents' graves for him once, offered to take him there for closure if he wanted it, and he'd refused because he hated them—hated them for a lie.

He couldn't breathe. Spots danced in the corners of his eyes. He watched the beetle. It seemed to be staring at him. Odd. What strange tricks his mind played on him when he could not breathe. He swayed. His vision tunneled. The beetle stared. Then black.

—MaW—

Harry knew even before he opened his eyes that his head was resting in Fate's lap. It was the smell—vanilla and lavender. It was the soap she used (she was not the sort to use perfume) and he knew it well. He'd woken up to find her face hovering over his enough times to recognize his position without needing to look. He opened his eyes anyway and was rewarded with his mother's worried eyes looking down at him.

"You hit your head pretty hard. Are you okay?"

"Well enough," he said. He sat up, mindful of his throbbing head. He was still downstairs. No one else in his family was anywhere to be seen. Only Woof was there, sitting patiently on the floor. Not even Arf was there. Harry twisted around, setting his feet on the floor and looked up at her. She looked back. "I would like to talk to him."

"Shall I walk you up, or do you want me to stay here?" She asked calmly, not the least bit bothered by his decision—outwardly at least. Inside, he knew she was very nervous and afraid. He wanted to soothe her, but knew it was pointless. She was the sort of person who worried about everything. His words would not change her fear; only time and actions would do that.

"Come with me please," he said. He wanted her there, not just because he knew it was make her feel better to be present, but because if something happened, if this Sirius Black said something Harry didn't want to hear, Fate would make him stop.

She nodded solemnly and led him up the stairs. They passed the Knights, who were whispering amongst themselves. Harry, who'd learned lip-reading, thought he saw Signum say something about attacks on the wards, and Shamal looked particularly pale and stressed. But they were gone and he was still walking behind his Okaasan.

He was going to meet his godfather. Or at least, the man who claimed to be his godfather. He was going to meet the man who he might have called uncle his entire life had the Potters not been drunks—no, that part was a lie—had the Potters lived. He wasn't sure how they had died anymore. Saving him, he knew that, but not much else. He willed himself to keep following his mother, to put one foot in front of the other, to keep moving, to not run away.

Then he heard the soft creak of door; they had arrived. Aunt Hayate was sitting in a chair against the wall, watching something—someone?—and scowling. She looked at them, nodded solemnly, and stood up. She didn't say anything, just got up and left, heading down the hall where Harry knew her uncle's room was.

Fate walked into the room. Harry hesitated, then followed.

The man from earlier was sitting in a chair. He looked better than he did earlier. He was dressed in finer clothes and had been allowed to clean up. His hair had been washed and combed, and his scraggly beard had been trimmed. He was pale and gaunt, but he was a handsome enough fellow, Harry supposed. The man, Sirius, had not seen him. He was too busy glowering at the woman Harry called Okaasan.

Harry frowned for a moment then cleared his face of all emotion. He coughed lightly. The older man looked over at him, his glower melting into a mixture of affection and longing. Harry thought it was disturbing, but felt compelled to give this man a chance.

"Harry," he said, standing.

Harry tried very hard not to scowl, he really did, but having spent so much time in Japan, he did not like to be addressed with such familiarity. "Black-san," he said in reply. He suppressed his guilt when the man jerked back. He stood firm. He deserved it for being so familiar with him and so callous with his Okaasan.

"Please," Harry went on, "sit. There is no need to make this situation any more uncomfortable than it already is. I know this is probably not what you were expecting when you came to find me," Harry said, sitting in the chair across from Black. The man remained standing. Fate leaned casually against the doorframe. "But I know you wanted to talk to me. Here I am."

"Harry, I…" He trailed off. Clearing his throat, the man straightened his posture. "I'm Sirius Black, Harry, but I guess you already know that. I'm your godfather. I don't know if anyone told you that."

"Okaasan told me," he replied, nodding in Fate's direction.

Sirius scowled, somehow knowing that fragment of Japanese. "Lily Potter is your mother."

"Lily Potter delivered me. My Okaasan raised me. They are two different people."

"That woman is not your mother!" Sirius snapped.

Harry stood slowly. He gave the man a cold look and turned away. "I don't need to hear anything else, Okaasan, let's go."

"Harry, wait—"

"Harry, perhaps you should reconsider," she said in Mid-Childan. "If you walk away from everyone who says something you do not like, you will walk away from everyone eventually, and have no one to turn to when you need them. Besides, he may answer questions you have not thought to ask."

He looked at her for a long moment. She was right. He knew that. Most mothers did not _always_ know best, but his had an uncanny knack for being right. Grudgingly, he turned back to the man. It helped that he knew Fate would step aside and let him go if he wanted. Yes, that helped him decide to talk to Black. She would not stop him next time.

So Harry sat stiffly across from Sirius Black, the man who was apparently his godfather. He wasn't quite sure he believed that yet. The man did not look like godfather material, not to him at least.

Black cleared his throat. "I, ah, I'm sorry if I offended you."

"You did offend me."

"I'm sorry, then," he said stiffly.

"That was the most insincere apology I've ever heard in my life."

"Listen, Harry, I know this is—" The older man leaned toward Harry; Harry leaned away. The other man drew back, stung. He paused. He coughed. "So. When you were born, you're mum and dad made me your godfather," he went on.

"Yes, you've said as much."

"Yes. Well." There was an awkward silence. "I know this is a bit soon, and that we haven't had the best of introductions so far, but I'd like to get to know you. Talk. Visit. I can tell you about your parents."

Harry suppressed a snort. "And what can you tell me about my parents that I don't already know? You barely know them yourself, having only met them today," he said, deliberately misinterpreting the offer.

"I can tell you about your real—your birth parents," he said.

"I'm not interested in learning about the Potters just yet," Harry answered. His words were cold, but true. He'd spent too much time hating them that he needed time to adjust to the fact that everything he knew about them was a lie before he could learn the truth. He couldn't hear about them, not now, not yet. "But I am interested in the magic you practice. Wizardry, you call it?"

Sirius frowned at him. "I was given to understand that you were already learning magic."

Harry looked at him impassively. "I have been practicing Magecraft for several years now, but Magecraft is different from the magic you practice. I would like to learn about it."

"You should go to Hogwarts," Sirius said quickly. "It's the finest school for magic there is. I went there—your parents went there."

"I assure you neither of my mothers attended a school named Hogwarts." Harry would break the man of his annoying habit sooner or later. He had his Nanomum's stubborn streak, after all. This was too important to him to concede any kind of victory to his would-be Godfather.

Black squirmed in his seat, a common habit, Harry guessed. "I went there, then, and I can say that the education is top-notch. The school is a safe place too, safest place in our world. James and Lily, they were my best friends before they were…"

"Before they died?"

"Before they were murdered by the man who gave you that scar."

Harry's breaths came faster and faster. Too much too soon, too much too soon! He got to his feet and left, Fate shutting the door behind him and following not even a foot behind. He could smell the vanilla and lavender.

She hugged him lightly and kissed the crown of his head, then waited for him to collect himself. It was a luxury he reveled in, one the Dursleys denied him. But his Okaasan was always so patient. He often wondered why. He could not remember a time when she had so much as raised her voice to him or Vivio, and her patience would put a saint to shame when it came to children.

He drew in a deep breath and relaxed; she immediately stepped away. Her embrace would only serve to make him feel trapped, something she intuitively knew. He often wondered at that as well. Harry never questioned the validity of the odd kinship and understanding that always lay between them, but he did wonder about it.

The house rocked violently, and Harry immediately took a defensive stance, Glaive forming in his hands and his Barrier Jacket forming about him. When he first donned his armor, he was told it was a Lightning Style Barrier Jacket. White trousers that were tucked into black metal plated boots, a black overcoat trimmed in turquois in a style nearly identical to (if slightly less stylized and decorated) than Fate's, golden buttons with lightning bolt detailing, and a high-collared white cape with a turquoise underside that went down to his waist. His hair was still pulled back, the band the same turquoise as his cape and piping. His glasses shifted too, the arms bending and lengthening, meeting at the back, forming a solid band so they would not slip off.

Harry held his pole arm before him. Like his Okaasan, his left hand bore a heavy gauntlet since it would be the limb most likely to be exposed in combat. He took up a safe position, back to a wall and out of sight. He could not see his Okaasan but knew that she had taken up a similar position, probably at an angle where she could see him even if he could not see her.

Vivio appeared in Kaiser form. Neither Harlaown attacked; Harry was well trained enough to know not to attack until he knew his enemy well enough to know when to take a good shot, and Fate always knew if someone was coming around a corner.

"Harry-kun? Fate-mama?" She whispered. Harry relaxed; he and Vivio worked out years ago that she could call him Harry-kun only as a way to prove she not an imposter when being attacked, and call him Harry the rest of time. It was clever, since it meant an imposter would call him Harry, and Vivio did any other time.

"Here, Nee-chan," he replied, using his own coded response. "What is going on?" He replied, voice just as soft.

"Your friendly neighborhood stalkers are back, and they brought friends. Nanoha-mama sent me to find you and Fate-mama. Where is she?"

No reply. Fate must have slipped away after Vivio appeared. "She was with me, but if I had to guess I'd say she was dealing with the situation. The others?"

"Handling it. Auntie Hayate said it's no problem, but her Uncle Graham has this weird look on his face. I think he might know more than he is telling us."

"What do you expect? He's an adult," Harry muttered.

Vivio shot him a look. "Our mamas are adults too." Harry gave her a look this time. She relented. "Sometimes. When they are working. I think." She groaned. "Okay, so they are overgrown children. Especially Fate-mama."

Harry nodded. It was hard to argue that his Okaasan was an adult, regardless of her age. Sometimes Harry wondered if he and Vivio were raising their mothers, since it certainly felt that way at times.

Harry pushed his amusement with his mothers to the far corner of his mind. It was not the time to be thinking of her wide-eyed idealism, not with danger about. He froze then. Black. The man who knew the Potters. Had he brought this on them? Was he a spy?

He whirled around, knowing where his mother had gone; their prisoner. He moved to join her, already knowing that Vivio was on his heels. She would have figured it out before him, probably, so she would know where he was going.

Harry and Vivio burst into the room to find it empty, the window open. He stayed out of sight and made his way to the window. Keeping his cover, he peeked outside. He could see Shamal out there, hands raised to maintain the Barriers, Zafira by her side, keeping her safe. He could see the red of Vita's magic dancing in the sky and the orange color of Signum's magic when she was in Unison with Agito.

Where was his Okaasan? Where was Nanomum? Harry scanned the room behind him, finding only his sister. And where was Black?

-THE PHOTO ALBUM-

_SNAP!_

There is a photograph of two women, smiling and laughing. They are mixing batter. Behind them, a pale, wiry boy is watching from under the table, clinging to the table leg as he watches.

The back reads: _Bakers_

_Lindy (42), Momoko (44), and Harry (5)_

Far from England, on the distant planet called Mid-Childa, stands a quaint little house. It is called the Takamachi-Harlaown residence.

While the house is being built, its future occupants live in a charming little house in some place called Japan. He does not know where Japan is, but he knows it is not in England and that it is not nearly as gray or rainy. The house, too, is strange. It is not like the one he used to stay in with his family. It is different, but the boy likes it.

There are two women, one with normal auburn hair, the other with bizarre blue-green hair. The boy watches them. He likes the second one best because her eyes are the same color his are, and he likes to think that maybe she is related to him.

The two women say to call them Obaasan. Well, Momoko Baasan and Lindy Obaasan is more accurate. He is not sure he can do that. He does not speak, not to them, not to anyone except Fate, and only that one time he said his name. He worries about saying the wrong thing, so he does not call them Momoko Baasan or Lindy Obaasan, because he does not know what they mean. He does know they giggle at each other whenever those words come up.

Sometimes they speak English to him—Momoko Baasan is better at speaking English than Lindy Obaasan, but Lindy Obaasan's accent is better. He likes it when they speak English to him because otherwise he does not know what they are saying. At the same time, he likes the other words they speak, because he thinks they are pretty. He thinks he likes that he does not know all the bad things they surely must be saying about him, because he knows no one ever has anything good to say about him. Uncle Vernon told him so.

"It's only a matter of time," Momoko Baasan tells him cheerily as she pours milk into a bowl. They have been mixing batter for over an hour for the café. Harry sits under the table, out of the way, and waits for Fate to come back from wherever she has gone.

"Fate loves children," Lindy Obaasan adds.

"Nanoha loves Fate."

"Fate loves Nanoha."

"They both love you."

"They love your nee-chan too of course."

"She'll love you too, of course!"

"You're going to be part of a beautiful family."

"Only a matter of time."

"Then we will really be your Baasans!"

The giggle at each other. A buzzer goes off and the one with auburn hair pulls out tray of some kind of sweet rolls. They smell wonderful, but Harry does not move. As she sets them out to cool, the one with his eyes offers him a biscuit (they call them cookies here, what a strange name). Slowly, with a trembling hand, he takes it, but does not eat it, not yet. She smiles warmly at him and it reminds him of Fate's smile. He takes a small bite, but it is not knocked from his hand, so he takes another. He is careful not to shove it in his mouth like he wants so badly to do. He eats it slowly, and savors the taste.

"Only a matter of time," one giggles again.

"I can't wait to be an Obassan again!"

"You will be so loved, Harry-kun!"

Harry holds tightly to the table leg, and does not reply. He wonders what a Baasan is, and what they mean by _loved_.

-chapter end-

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha/Mahou Shojou Lyrical Nanoha.

A/N: Fabulous news, I got an extension for the final papers for my classes, so I was able to get this fixed up. I am still Beta-free, so if anyone is interested, please send me a PM. I have the next five chapters written, but I would like a Beta to help me with errors.

So, opinions on the PHOTO ALBUM? I know a lot of reviewers liked it, and felt it works, but what about the format? Does that work? Does it need to change? Anything you want to see in particular?

I may not update next week depending on my schedule. I will try to get a chapter up (it is already written after all), but I am my own worst critic, so I tend to edit and re-edit. It's a huge part of why I need a Beta. Anyway, Happy Reading and please review.

Au revoir,

Hatter


	5. Part One, Chapter Five

Magecraft and Wizardry

Part One: The Misfit Mage

Chapter Five: Intruders

Considering his limited combat experience, barring his training sessions, Harry rather thought he was handling himself well. He maintained his cover, he was alert, and he had Glaive at the ready. All of his sparring sessions, all of his lessons, all of the hours he'd spent practicing each and every night, it was all for this moment.

He regretted that Nygma was still not with him. He could use his old friend's skill and aide. He'd felt a bit of hope when he felt Agito, but he hadn't heard the high-pitched whistle that he knew Nygma produced. His friend was probably still being repaired.

Nygma was much better at managing his other magic (wizarding magic?) than he was. It was why Aunt Hayate made him a few years ago, when his magic started to get out of control. Constant headaches, blackouts, some kind of clairvoyance ability; Harry still remembered that vision of a strange man screaming, begging his master's forgiveness as he was stabbed by a thousand invisible knives. Only Aunt Hayate and Rein had been able to relieve him.

A loud crackling—something hitting the shield—pulled him from his thoughts. He took a deep, calming breath. His first instinct was to jump out of the window and provide support. Fortunately, he sparred regularly with Nanomum, and she had cheerfully _cooled his head_ to help him control those impulses. Harry had fond memories of her pulling him to his feet, dusting him off and telling him not to be foolish like his Fate-mama and risk himself to save others.

He drew in another deep, steadying, breath and crept back into the hallway. Closing his eyes, he tapped into his magic and stretched out his senses. This was a skill Okaasan taught him, something that only they could do. It was an acquired skill, one he learned far quicker than anyone in his family anticipated. But, where his Okaasan could do it with ease, Harry had yet to master this skill. Neither Vivio nor Nanomum could sense other mages the way he and his Okaasan could. But then, the sensations he got were different from his Okassan's.

Fate explained once that she felt magic in pulses, usually in time with someone's heartbeat. Every living thing sent out pulses, but magical entities were easier to sense. This was a secret she shared only with him, for Lightning Mages guarded the truth about their magic jealously. She felt the electrical pulses of hearts beating in non-mages and the flow of magic through the body for mages. It was why no one could sneak up on her. If the pulse was familiar enough, she could even tell who was approaching.

She mentioned once, in passing, that she could also tell Mid-Childan magic from Belkan from Summoning magic as well. She also told Harry that he had magic, and he used a Mid-Childan configuration, but his magic was not Mid-Childan.

No one in his family had ever understood why his magic was so different. Now, of course, he knew his magic to be Wizardry. He supposed it was why he felt magic in a very different way. . He knew the feeling he got from mages had something to do with their affinities, but the connection was not always evident to him.

He certainly understood Fate's, though. Like Erio, Fate had a lightning affinity. Unlike Erio, she had more power, more than anyone Harry had ever met, even more than Nanoha and Hayate. Erio's power felt like a spark to Harry, a powerful spark, but a spark nonetheless. With his Okaasan, it was a pool of raw power, a pool that was hovering outside of Graham Manor at that very moment, collecting and being readied for use in the event that anyone should break through the shield surrounding the manor. His Okaasan was very serious about protecting her children.

To the left of the manor was the feeling of falling forever; Nanomum was collecting her energy too. To the right of the manor was the feel of binding chains that he knew to be his Aunt Hayate. Behind him, the sense of drowning, Vivio. Somewhere to their left in the house was the hunger he associated with Mister Graham. Outside, a shield that felt like the wind and a hint of ice (Reinforce Zwei) and the feeling of being chained (Aunt Hayate was helping too) surrounded the building. Dancing around it was fire (Signum and Agito) and the feel of a metal wall in motion (Vita). These were the smooth movements of patrolling, not the jerky movements of combat. Reaching out, he found the rumbling feeling he associated with Zafira and the buzzing feel of Arf.

Outside, attacking, were dozens of smaller magical signatures, all similar to his own. It felt like ringing to him, and it was as if he could feel different pitches. The higher pitches meant stronger magic, the lower pitches meant weaker. There were two that were very high pitched, but they were nowhere near as high as his signature, though some did have a curious buzz attached to the ring. Inside the shield, near Fate's pool of power, there was another pitch. Fairly high but again, not close to the other two or his. Harry guessed this was Sirius Black.

Harry briefly considered the type of magic he sensed from the wizards. Perhaps, he was one of their number as Black claimed.

Harry paused. "Glaive," he intoned.

[Yes, Sir!]

"Power down."

"Harry? What—"

[Yes, Sir.]

"—are you doing?"

Harry turned to his sister. "Power down, Viv. Okaasan and Nanomum can handle this, they don't need us. Besides, we can't show our hand, not yet. I doubt they know everything our mothers and the rest of the family can do, but they definitely don't need to know we have similar abilities."

"What are you—" Vivio's eyes widened in understanding. "We can't let them know what we can do. If they think we are weak, they'll probably underestimate us. Well, they'll probably do that anyway, no one ever thinks kids can handle this sort of thing." She grinned, dropping her Barrier Jacket and returning to her normal look. She cradled Chris. "Our Mamas may be Aces," she began.

"But we will be the aces up their sleeves," he grinned back. "I found everyone, so let's find a comfortable place to wait out the fight."

"Actually," a voice rasped, "I would rather you help me." They turned to find the retired Admiral watching them, leaning heavily on the doorframe. "You see, I think I may just know how to handle this situation. There are secrets I should have revealed long ago, but I am a foolish old man. Come, children. Help me outside."

Harry and Vivio were obedient children—for the most part—and recognized that this was not the proper time to cause trouble. Each taking one arm to prop him up, and avoiding the cats twining between their legs, they helped him walk outside.

"I need," he wheezed, "to speak with my niece." Another rattling breath. "She can calm the waters until I can speak," he had to pause for several long moments to gasp in air, "with whoever is leading the charge."

"Yes, Graham-san," Harry answered, and subtly shifted their direction to the right, where Hayate was.

He gave a raspy laugh. "A proper English lad, using Japanese honorifics. Your mothers have quite the influence," he wheezed.

They moved as fast as they were able, so not very fast at all. Fortunately, the shield was holding strong at the moment, so no attacks were getting through. They were able to hobble along unhindered.

Harry was anxious. He had a foreboding feeling in his gut. Things were never simple when Aces were involved, he knew that, and things tended to be wild when it came to him and Vivio as well, but this was supposed to be a vacation of sorts. He nearly sighed; that was simply life as a Takamachi-Harlaown.

"Hayate," the old man rasped. His voice impossibly quiet and yet the young woman heard. She turned. At first, her eyes widened in surprise then narrowed in annoyance. She looked at Harry, then Vivio. She opened her mouth to speak, but Graham cut her off. "Stop this now," he commanded, voice surprisingly strong considering his health. "I know who is attacking, and I can reason with them. I shall need support to calm them down, but I need everyone else, including our dear Harry, to go inside. Now."

His aunt was known for kicking up a fuss when she had to do something she did not want to do. So, Harry and Vivio were both surprised when she complied without so much as a scowl. She took him by the arm. "I'll help you, Uncle Graham. Harry, Vivio, get back inside. I will send the others in after you. Shamal and Zafira can remain outside with us. Well, what are you two waiting for? Move out!"

Neither needed to hear another word, retreating to the house without complaint. As he ran, Harry wondered if, in another lifetime, he might have resisted following orders. He supposed life in a military family prevented that mindset.

Harry and Vivio waited in the front room where there were plenty of windows to let them see what was going on. Vita and Signum joined them first, ever obedient. Fate and Nanoha were facing off with Aunt Hayate, probably arguing judging by their expressions. Aunt Hayate simply pointed to the house. In the end, Aunt Hayate won and first Nanoha then Fate, Sirius trotting beside her, returned. Arf was nowhere to be seen, but that did not mean anything. She could be hiding and spying for Fate, or she could have gone for reinforcements.

"I could have gotten all the information we needed if no one had interrupted," Nanomum grumbled as she crossed the threshold. "Everyone talks to me eventually."

"I know, Nanoha, I know. We will have to trust Hayate in this. Should something go wrong, we can handle it," Fate assured her.

Everyone picked a window to watch. Well, everyone but Fate and Sirius. Sirius was staring at Harry with a longing air about him. Harry forced himself not to look at the man and focus on what was happening outside. He saw Aunt Hayate and Graham-san talking with the man who looked like Merlin. Three men stood to his left. First was a man dressed in black with lank black hair and beard. Beside him was portly man in a suit and matching bowler hat. Last was a man in a ragged coat and strange eye that swirled in the socket, looking everywhere while the other eye was trained steadily on Harry.

"Black-san," Fate began behind him. "You said you are wanted for crimes you have not committed, yes?"

Harry wished he could hear what the people outside were saying, or at least see their faces better.

"Yes," he answered cautiously. "What of it? Going to turn me in?"

"If you choose," she answered. "You have a few options available to you. I will naturally abide by your decision."

It took everything in his power to continue to watch the scene outside. Vivio, standing beside him, twitched; she wanted to turn as well.

"And what are those options?"

"The first is that I can turn you over to the authorities of this land, since it is believed that you have violated their laws. The second is that I can take you into custody for assault of an officer, where you will be taken to Mid-Childa for trial."

"Not very good options," the man muttered.

"The third option is that you admit your guilt of attacking me, and I decide your punishment here and now. As the aggrieved party, you would be indebted to me. Considering the extenuating circumstances, your punishment would be community service under my supervision. This is fairly standard."

Aunt Hayate was shifting uncomfortably now, and the cats at Mister Graham's feet were getting fidgety.

"Community service under your supervision," Black-san said coldly.

"I rather thought you might choose that one."

"I never said—"

"I am an enforcer," his Okaasan went on as if Black-san had never said a word. "My work is very dangerous. Do not worry, I will not endanger you. You will be my assistant, nothing more. You will work with Shari—Shario Finieno, but I have always called her Shari. She is my communications operator and Device Meister. Depending on your skills, you may work with her or with myself in a more direct capacity."

"This really is not much of a choice."

Aunt Hayate and the others were walking toward the house. Harry wondered what Mister Graham said to calm them down.

"Indeed it is not, but I am fair, and I will not mistreat you. My jurisdiction overrides the laws of this land, so they cannot punish you unless I give my express permission. Here, take this." There was the sound of something ruffling. "You will need to wear it at all times. It signifies you are in my service."

"I don't want this," he said gruffly.

"Then, shall I arrest you, or turn you over to their custody?"

He growled but said nothing more. Harry guessed Black-san took the yellow ribbon that he would wear as a collar until his community service was over.

Nanoha looked over her shoulder at them, smirking. "I have a feeling we'll get along great, Black-san. Community Service is how I make all of my friends."

Harry and Vivio whipped around at that, only to find Fate blushing furiously. "Eh, Nanoha!"

"She has a point," Signum said with a smirk

Fate pouted but said nothing. Harry shared a confused look with his sister but smiled anyway. There was yet another story there. Harry was well aware that he knew very little about either of the women who raised him. He wanted to know more, of course, but he did not want to ask. Asking questions was against the rules at the Dursleys, and while he was allowed to ask his family anything, he knew that there were sensitive subjects that he did not quite know how to approach. But he had the freedom to ask, even if he did not. This story seemed like it might be tamer, so he considered asking later.

The door opened, and only a gentle breeze indicated that Fate had moved to stand between the invaders and her children. Nanoha sauntered up to Fate, casually linking their arms and leaning into her side. Raising Heart was in her hand, catching the light almost merrily.

Hayate came in first, her uncle on her arm, and the cats running ahead. The intruders followed behind them. "Such a welcome," he wheezed, "and in my own home, no less. Sit, all of you. Introductions first and then—"

A jet of light shot toward Black, but Fate moved and blocked it easily. "What is the meaning of this?" Fate demanded. "Is this not a parley?" She walked back to stand in front of Harry and Vivio, as if she had never moved away.

"I thought you were going to calm them down so we could talk?" Hayate all but growled.

Nanoha said nothing, but shifted her stance to stand beside Fate and better block Harry and Vivio. There were only two of them, but they were an impenetrable wall protecting their children.

"That man," a plump man said, pointing to Black, "is a criminal. He is wanted for the murder of a fine wizard and twelve muggles. He is in the service of a dark wizard and betrayed his friends for his own benefit." He looked to the others. "Well? Get him!"

"That will not be necessary. Black-san admitted his guilt to attacking me and, as an Enforcer and the aggrieved party, I have determined he will complete community service and serve out his punishment under my supervision. You need not concern yourselves with him."

"Hardly comforting, coming from a practitioner of the Black Arts," an oily looking man said. "Training him up, are you, to be the general of your army?"

"Enough. Introductions will be made. This will be civil. I have the utmost confidence in Enforcer Harlaown's ability to control him. You can tell by the ribbon he wears; it is her mark. There is nothing anyone in the Ministry can do about it without her express permission. If you choose not to believe her, trust in me. I may not have been part of your world for some time, but surely the Graham name still commands respect. Wands and Devices will be put away. That includes you, Takamachi-san. Your tactics to get people to listen are well known."

It seemed the Graham name did command respect in this other world. The mages would not disobey him because, even retired, he was still an admiral. The wizards were another story. So whatever sway the Graham name held must have been powerful indeed.

It took several long and awkward moments, but eventually everyone was seated in what vaguely resembled a horseshoe shape. Mister Graham was at the apex of the horseshoe, with Hayate, Fate, Nanoha, Harry and Vivio sitting to his left. Behind them the Knights were waiting, taking up positions near the windows. Zafira sat, alert, at Hayate's feet while Arf, who'd snuck back in at some point, was curled on the floor at Fate's feet. Woof was curled against Harry's side. Black was standing rigidly behind Fate, scowling that he had to stand there since he was in her service.

To Mister Graham's right were the intruders. The Merlin lookalike, if Merlin wore fluorescent robes, sat next to him. Then came the plump man with a bowler hat and then a grizzled man with a bowler hat and a strange eye. Last was the greasy man who glowered at Black. A few others, Harry thought someone called them aurors, stood behind them, their eyes trained on Black but occasionally flickering to Fate.

"Now, introductions. Everyone needs to know who is who—and everyone will use proper names. Anyone who does not is cordially uninvited to this little meeting and may leave." Graham paused to allow for complaints. Silence. "Now, why don't we begin with our guests?"

"Indeed, I suppose I shall begin. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin First Class."

"Ahem, I am Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic here in Britain."

"Alastor Moody, Auror."

"Severus Snape, Professor at Hogwarts and Potions Master."

They waited for the remaining men to go, but they did not.

"Yagami Hayate, Lieutenant-Colonel, Special Investigations."

"Enforcer Fate T. Harlaown, Captain, Navy."

"Takamachi Nanoha, Captain, Armed Forces."

"Harry T. Harlaown," Harry began, his response stirring up quite an angry response. He scowled and went on. "Enforcer Cadet, Navy."

"Takamachi Vivio, Armed Forces Cadet, Air Force."

"Sword Knight Signum."

"Agito, Sword Fairy of the Raging Fire."

"Knight of the Lake, Shamal."

"Iron Hammer Knight Vita."

"Reinforce Zwei, Sergeant Major," the pixie-like Unison Device said from her perch on Hayate's shoulder.

Silence for a long moment.

"Strange, I remember you from many years ago, Gil, when you were a young man yourself, not much older than Harry. Forgive me, but your skill as a wizard was lacking. I wonder, then, how you came into such odd company." It was the old man, Dumbledore, who spoke.

Hayate scowled at the aged wizard, clearly not liking the way he spoke about her uncle.

"I should think not, considering I was never meant to be a wizard." He turned to Harry and his family. "The Grahams are an old wizarding family. No one could understand why I was attending Hogwarts, the school for magic. I had magic but I couldn't channel it properly. I was better at the defense class, but my skills were abysmal at best." He gave a wracking cough. "It was not until I discovered a clerk that I learned I was a mage," this he addressed to the invaders. "Mages are also magical practitioners, but we specialize in combat magic. Shields, attack spells, healing," he nodded to Shamal, "and spells associated with fighting. It is a largely forgotten craft here, but it is well used elsewhere."

"And you learned to practice this new form of magic from this clerk?" The Minister asked skeptically.

"I did," Graham agreed. "I joined the Time-Space Administration Bureau and went off-world. I only returned a few decades ago to live the rest of my life in peace."

"Off world?" The grizzled man demanded. "You expect us to believe that?"

Graham cleared his throat. "Are you really so arrogant as to believe this planet is the only one to produce life? That no one else can use magic? Off-worlders are sitting in the room now. Can you tell who?"

"That would be easy," the oily man, Snape, said. "The Knights and the fairies."

"Reinforce is neither a fairy, nor was she created off-world; she was created here," Hayate said with a cold smile. "Agito is not a fairy either, no matter what her title implies. As for my Knights, they are indeed Belkan. But there are others from off-world sitting in this room."

Silence as the invaders studied them. Many of the aurors and the Minister looked rather helpless. Snape looked calculating. "I was not made here," Fate said at last. She said nothing about Vivio, but Harry supposed they might guess if they paid attention to her eyes. Red was abnormal coloring here, but was perfectly normal on other planets.

Dumbledore narrowed his cold blue eyes at Fate. Harry guessed he was considering her unusual wording. It wasn't everyday someone said they were _made_ and not _born_. But then, most people were not clones. Not that the intruders knew that.

"You mean that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived was raised by an _alien?_" The minister demanded, leaping to his feet in indignation.

"No sir," Harry answered coldly. "As it seems you missed it the first time, I will repeat myself. I am Harry T. _Harlaown_, and for your information, I was raised by my _mothers_."

Eyes looked at Fate and Nanoha, whose hands were linked. Nanoha was running her thumb over the back of Fate's hand in a soothing gesture. There was a moment of stunned silence before chaos ensued.

The Minister began babbling incoherently. The other man, with the funny eye and wooden leg, Alastor Moody, began cursing, and the others, the aurors, were up in arms, snarling about Harry Potter and the Boy-Who-Lived and You-Know-Who (Harry had no idea who that was) and Lily and James and kidnappers and brainwashing and any number of other, equally infuriating comments. Only the professors, Dumbledore and Snape, were silent and unreadable, both staring at him.

Behind him, Harry could practically feel the Knights shift to be ready to take on anyone who moved forward. Signum, he knew, would already be fingering the miniature blade of her Device where it hung around her neck. He could feel Shamal gearing up to put up a barrier. Harry fingered his own Device where it rested on his wrist, willing the intruders to attack, to give him a reason to beat them for their nonsense.

"Just shut up," Vivio finally snapped. "Nanoha-mama and Fate-mama have done a great job raising Harry and I!"

"Harry and me, Vivio, not Harry and I," Fate corrected softly.

"Harry and me," Vivio said quickly, eyes still flashing as she looked at the men and single woman standing across from them. "Our Mamas are great, and there is no one in the entire universe that could have done a better job raising us!"

"Agreed," Harry added with a firm nod.

"I do believe I specified that you should put away your weapons, Takamachi-san," Mister Graham said.

Nanoha stared at Dumbledore. "I do not like the way he is looking at my son," she said, rolling the red gem between her thumb and forefinger; her other hand was still linked with Fate's. There was a manic gleam in her eyes as she stared at him. "Not at all." Aunt Hayate told him once that after Vivio was kidnapped, Nanomum was a little manic (which Harry interpreted to mean paranoid) when it came to her children. Harry did not doubt that in the least.

"I suppose you would not, but this is still my home. You and your family are welcome to leave it," the old man said. When the Takamachi-Harlaown family moved to stand, he went on. "And deny your son the knowledge of who he is."

All eyes turned to Harry, who in turn looked at his mothers. They wanted to leave, he knew they did. They were giving him the choice. It was both a blessing and a curse. "I think… I think we should stay. For now."

Nanoha frowned, but reluctantly put Raising Heart away, settling for glowering at Dumbledore.

"A wise decision, wise indeed. I have much to say, then. You will want to make yourselves comfortable. I have quite a tale to tell and after that, I would very much like to hear why you felt the need to attack my home."

-THE PHOTO ALBUM-

_SNAP!_

There is a photograph of a woman and her two children, a son and daughter. The woman is sitting on the floor of a closet, a boy curled in her arms. The girl is standing near the door, looking down at the pair curiously.

The back reads: _Harry's Magic, first incident_

_Harry (7), Vivio (8), and Nanoha (21). _

Far from England, on the distant planet called Mid-Childa, stands a quaint little house. It is called the Takamachi-Harlaown residence.

That little house is currently in chaos. Fate T. Harlaown has been on a mission for three weeks now, leaving Nanoha to take care of the children on her own. It has been difficult.

Harry is a good boy. He has even come to accept that magic exists. It frightens him, but he is aware that his adopted mothers and sister are mages and he is not afraid of them. He has it himself. They told him so. But, he does not have as much as they do. They think that his Aunt and Uncle must not have understood his power and that was why they were cruel. For that reason, he hates his magic and refuses to use it. Not using it is easy. Fortunately, magic is largely offensive or defensive. There is no summoning objects from across the room, no washing the dishes with the wave of a hand. While it is part of his life, it is a distant part, one he does not have to face.

He is distrustful of everyone but his family as a rule. His school work is exemplary, but he will not talk in class. More than one teacher has ridiculed his silence and punished him. He accepts his punishments without complaint for he is, as always, silent and submissive. It was Fate-san who put a stop to it. Harry does not know what she said or did, but the teachers leave him alone now.

Fate-san has always been the one to deal with his troubles, to fight his battles, but now Fate-san is gone. She is on a mission and she cannot communicate with anyone because she is undercover. She cannot confront the source of his terror this time, which is terrible because he has never been as afraid of himself as he is now.

He has done magic, but it is not the magic he has gradually grown comfortable with. He knows, instinctively, that his is different. He knows that the simple orange he summoned from the kitchen with a thought is wrong. Magic is real and he has it, but he has never shown any skill in Magecraft, and he has never heard of a mage who is able to do anything like this. He panics.

He screams.

Nanoha-san whirls around, abandoning her cooking, to see what is wrong. She looks at him in confusion, not understanding why he is screaming at the orange in his hand. She sets the towel she had been using to dry her hands on the table and steps toward him. Terrified, he flees, dropping the orange.

He's a freak. Uncle Vernon was right all along, he's a freak, and now Fate-san and Nanoha-san (he uses Japanese honorifics because he likes the way they sound) will want to be rid of him. They will take him to an orphanage, leave him in the street to fend for himself, leave him on someone else's doorstep to be their problem. They will do all the things Uncle Vernon threatened to do, because he has magic like they do, but it's the wrong kind.

He needs to hide. If he can hide, maybe he can sneak away later. Grab a few apples (not oranges, definitely not oranges) so he won't starve and some clothes (he likes having clothes that fit) to keep warm when it gets colder. He just needs to hide until then. The closet is a good place. Nanoha-san won't expect that. Now free of the cupboard, he hates small places, and so she will not expect him to hide in the closet.

He hides and tries to quiet his breathing like a few years before when Dudley would go Harry Hunting. He needs to quiet his breathing or he will be found. He succeeds. She finds him anyway.

Nanoha-san opens the door and looks down at him. She is confused by his quivering body, but she does not touch him. She must know he does not like to be touched. Instead, she steps into the closet with him and sits. She looks uncomfortable. He is small and can fit, but she is an adult (except she acts too young to be an adult, so she is but isn't at the same time), so she has to bend and fold and curl in on herself to fit. Slowly, fearfully, she shuts the closet door, and there is only black.

"What is wrong, Harry-kun?" Her voice is soft, and in the dark, he can pretend she is not real.

"It's different," he says. It's all he can say.

"What's different?"

"The magic. The orange, I wanted it. And I got it. It flew. Right into my hand." He holds up his hand, though he is not sure why. It is too dark to see.

He waits. Nanoha-san is quiet. He knows this is it, this is the end, they will know he is a freak, and after two wonderful years, they will send him away. He will miss Nanoha-san and he will miss Vivio nee-chan. Most of all, he will miss Fate-san. He misses her now and wishes he could see her one last time.

"It looks like we are going to have to find you a teacher, Harry-kun," she says with a sigh. "It was fine when you weren't using magic, but now that you've used it, you're going to have to learn to control it. But I've never heard of that type of magic before. Hmm. I can talk to Hayate-chan, if you don't mind. Perhaps her Knights know something about it, or there is something in the Book of the Azure Sky."

Harry stares, bewildered, into the darkness. She is waiting for him to say something, he knows, but he does not know what to say. There is nothing he can say. She is not going to get rid of him. She is not going to take him to an orphanage, leave him in the street to fend for himself, leave him on someone else's doorstep to be their problem. She's going to find a way to teach him.

Without thinking, he throws himself into her arms and hugs her, wrapping his arms around her waist and holding her as tightly as he can. He is still afraid, and he wishes Fate-san was there with him, but Nanoha-san is there, and he knows she will fight his battles too, just like Fate-san does.

The door opens, and Harry and Nanoha-san sigh in relief. Vivio nee-chan looks down, puzzled. She does not ask anything, though Harry can see she wants to. Instead, Nanoha-san explains what happened in the kitchen. Harry is sure she will think he is a freak, but all she can say is:

"Can I do that? It would be so neat!"

-chapter end-

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha/Mahou Shojou Lyrical Nanoha.

A/N: Alright readers, this is either a few days early or more than a week late, depending on how you want to look at it. As I said in a previous note, I am moving to a new house, and the time has come to actually move. As such, I am not going to have the internet for some time—I do not know how long. I wanted to get this out before that happens though. If there is something you absolutely must know, you have roughly 24 hours to get a message to me.

If you enjoyed the chapter, you may thank my two fabulous Betas, zelene2004 and musikazen, who made me fix my work no less than three times. They are absolutely amazing, so they have my gratitude.

Also, I am looking for some cover art for this story. Does anyone know of any good HP/MSLN artwork?

Lastly, I posted a one-shot called Delusions of Mediocrity. This particular story is personal canon of mine; as a personal canon, the events in that story (when Nanoha, Fate and Hayate are 10) hold true for this story. It is not necessary to read that story, however, it might give a little more insight into character dynamics, much like the PHOTOS do.

That said, thank you for reading and please review.

Au revoir

Hatter


	6. Part One, Chapter Six

Magecraft and Wizardry

Part One: The Misfit Mage

Chapter Six: Negotiations

Harry listened as Gil Graham wove an intricate tale. He told of being born into a small family where everyone could use magic, channeling the magic not through Devices, but through wands. He described how he had raw power but no control, and how not even Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry could help him control it properly. Then the story veered into more familiar territory for him, but was obviously new to the intruders. He told how he met a fallen clerk and saved him, how the clerk in turn recognized him for what he was; a mage. He'd gone with the clerk to outer space, to the Time-Space Administration Bureau, where he'd gotten an education in Magecraft and climbed the ranks until he was an Admiral.

He did not discuss why he chose to look after Hayate nor did he explain why he retired. Harry figured they were not relevant to the story, but he still wanted to know. He and Vivio had theorized about it a few times over the years, but nothing they came up with made sense.

"So you see, I was a mage raised among wizards. For Harry, it is opposite. He is a wizard that is being raised by and among mages. There is no shame in either lifestyle and perhaps I am biased, but I feel the education provided by the Bureau is far superior to what Hogwarts provides. While he is not a powerful mage, his upbringing will guarantee that he will be unparalleled in power as far as wizards go." There was silence for a long while. Long enough to let both sides absorb information they did not know of before.

Harry considered the matter. It would be a fine thing to be powerful, a fine thing indeed. He was a Harlaown, and Harlaowns were very influential people. Could he be influential here? Could he learn this new type of magic and climb the ranks as Mister Graham had done and make the Harlaown name influential in this world? Was he willing to take on that responsibility? Could he handle it?

He looked to Fate. Her expression was unreadable, but he knew her well enough to know that her mind was working overtime. Her thoughts would be racing faster than normal human comprehension as she weighed her options. While Harry would need a day or two to consider everything, she would have considered every possibility within a few minutes.

"I don't suppose you'd like to share why you were stalking my son?" Nanoha said. "And why do you keep using that silly moniker, the Boy-Who-Lived? Aren't all boys who don't die boys who lived?"

"And I hate to break it to you," Vivio snarked, "but this you-know-who stuff? I don't know who you're talking about. Care to clue us in?"

"Am I to assume that this may also tie in to why you attacked my house?" Mister Graham asked in his raspy voice.

The Minister looked at them, stunned, then began to mumble before turning to the elderly professor.

"That," Dumbledore said slowly, "is a very long story in and of itself. I will be as concise as I may be." His eyes trailed over them as he spoke. "It begins a long time ago, and much cannot be said of that time, so I will skip to the middle, when a powerful wizard rose to power. He was a practitioner of the darkest of arts, unendingly cruel, and bent on world domination. Well, Britain, certainly, perhaps the world would come later.

"He was so dark, so terrifying, that people feared to speak his name. He called himself Voldemort." The intruders shuddered, all but the grizzly man and the professors, though Snape noticeably stiffened.

"Voldemort," Fate said. "Vol de mort. That is French, is it not? Flight from death. Surely he is a coward."

"Coward?" Dumbledore asked, head cocked to the side in interest.

Fate raised a brow. "A coward," she said with a firm nod. "Warriors do not fear death. They do not flee from it."

"Warriors embrace Death like an old friend come home," Signum added. "This man, this Death Flight, he is a coward. I would strike him down, but his blood would only dirty my blade. I will not sully Leavatein in such a way. I cross blades only with those who are worthy. Death Flight is beneath me."

Agito snickered on her shoulder.

Dumbledore coughed politely to get their attention. "Be that as it may, he was, after his rise to power, a very real threat to the people of our world. None who stood against him survived, save two. One is myself. The other is the babe who defeated him thirteen years ago. You, Harry. He killed Lily and James Potter and turned his wand on you, but you survived, leaving you with the scar on your forehead as a token of his deeds. You were then hailed as the Boy-Who-Lived, the savior of our world."

Silence, but for the rattle of Mister Graham's breathing. Harry's breath was coming in short silent gasps. He did not want to know this. He'd cut Black off earlier because he wasn't ready. He still was not, but this man, Dumbledore, let it all come out and Harry desperately wanted to erase his words.

"You vanished some years ago and, as a hero of our world, we searched for you. When you resurfaced, and in unknown company, we feared the worst and sought to rescue you," Dumbledore concluded.

Arf was growling loudly.

"Rescue him?" Hayate asked, voice cold. "Yeah, I can definitely see how a savior needs to be rescued from his loving family."

"May I be excused?" Harry asked, voice rising slightly at the end. If asked, he would say it was so he could be heard over Arf, but really it was desperation.

A hand touched his shoulder; Nanomum. He was not really watching, did not really see, as he was led from the room. All he knew was that Nanomum was there with him. She smelled like Sakura trees and bread, reminding him strongly of home. He may live on Mid-childa, but home would always be Japan.

They did not talk, which was odd. Normally, Nanomum was all about conversation. Now, the quiet was awkward. Comfortable silence was something he shared with Okaasan, or Signum, sometimes Zafira. Still, the quiet allowed Harry to be alone with his thoughts, even if he was not actually alone. Harry suspected Nanomum was there for his protection as much as she was to get away from Dumbledore.

Arms wrapped around him, binding him, constricting him, but he allowed it. Nanomum was a tactile woman, and she needed this comfort. His heart hammered, but surrounded by the smells of Home, he was able to calm himself, lengthening his breaths and clearing his mind with light mediation.

"I was not ready to hear what they had to say," he admitted.

"I know," Nanomum murmured into his hair. "I know."

"I guess I had to learn sooner or later though."

"Mmm."

"I don't know why I reacted like that."

She pulled away and gently took his hands. "Oh Harry, my little boy. You don't need to worry about that. I know you hate it here in England, hate being away from your family. The stress of being here, of everything that has happened in the last few days…and then to learn these truths. All it takes is something little to break you when there are a lot of other things going on, and what you just learned was not little. Harry, it's okay, it really is." She pulled him close again, and this time, he drew comfort in the act himself.

They stayed that way for a short while before Harry began to squirm in her arms and she released him. Still, he felt relief when she was no longer restricting him. He was proud that he kept himself from sighing in relief; he loved Nanomum, and did not want to hurt her like that.

He nodded and, taking her hand, returned to the room. Unsurprisingly, his Okaasan was sitting calmly. What their _guests_ did not notice was the empty look in her eyes, one that meant someone else was sitting there. The blonde woman sitting calmly was not Okaasan, Fate-mama, or Fate-chan. That was Enforcer Harlaown. Cold, calculating, observant, hyper-vigilant. It meant she was tracking everything going on, from pulses to movements, and all forms of communication, verbal and nonverbal. She looked relaxed, but the air around her crackled minutely from the concentration of her power that she had gathered.

"You are asking the wrong person," she said softly. "I am not in the habit of issuing orders to the children. Harry will decide his future. Should he decide he would like to see your school, I will naturally check it myself to be sure it is safe." Mouths opened to argue. "I was indeed listening when you said that Hogwarts was the safest place. I will simply see if it meets my own, very high, standards." Her head leaned ever so slightly to the left. "If it does not, I will make the necessary adjustments, and I am sure Nanoha will help me."

Harry tried to stop himself, he really did, but the guffaw escaped his lips nonetheless. Aunt Hayate and Vivio sent a knowing smirk his way. What the intruders did not know is that the last time Harry's school did not live up to his mothers' expectations, they'd raised such a ruckus that the Bureau was asked to come in and appease them. As a result, a new security system was installed, guards were posted around the school, an entire wing was rebuilt, and Harry and Vivio were given special permission to carry their Devices with them.

It turned out those measures were necessary, of course. It was dangerous to have the name of Takamachi or Harlaown. Those measures had saved him and his sister more than once.

"What's this?" Nanoha asked. Mother and son moved closer, and with every step, Enforcer Harlaown faded away, leaving Fate in her place. The blonde smiled warmly at them.

"I suggested that young Mister Potter might—"

"Harlaown," Harry and his family interjected. It amused him that Nanomum and Vivio were the more forceful voices, his own voice low and annoyed, Okaasan's as soft as ever.

"Forgive me, young Harry, might want to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, that he may become acquainted with his own magic," Dumbledore went on.

"I do not recall giving you permission to address me with such familiarity," Harry said coldly. "You may address me as Mister Harlaown or Harlaown-san if you must address me at all."

Nanomum hummed her approval and gave his shoulder a comforting squeeze. "Respect is very important," she chimed, "and the Harlaown name commands respect."

"And I am a Harlaown," Harry said with a touch of pride.

"Not by blood," the minister said with a huff. "You're a Potter! The Potters are a Noble and Ancient House and commands far more respect in our world than the name Harlaown."

Harry sucked in a deep breath, teeth clenched. His name. This man dismissed his _name_.

"The Harlaown name," Okaasan said, "is revered throughout the entire universe." She said calmly. "I may be wrong, but I feel that the universe trumps a fairly small country on a relatively small planet."

Hayate snickered. "Fate-chan is being modest," she said with amusement, but did not reveal anything else.

"As to his education, well, the Academy is very thorough and rigorous in teaching both control and Magecraft. If he should decide to attend your school, I would not stand in the way," Fate said, "but as you have already been told, it is his choice." Her words were as firm as they were soft. Harry wondered if she spoke softly to force people to listen to her.

"Magecraft," Snape said smoothly, "is far removed from Wizardry. I am well acquainted with the combative arts. Wizards are capable of your Magecraft, but we found it drained life-force faster. By teaching the boy Magecraft, you are effectively killing him. I cannot say I am surprised that you would endanger the lives of your children when you have fallen prey to the Blackest of Magical Arts."

"My mothers practice Magecraft, and yes, they specialize in combat magic, but they do not utilize the forbidden arts. I do not know where you got that fool idea that either of my mothers practices necromancy, but you're wrong.

"Necromancy?" Dumbledore asked. "No one said anything about necromancy."

"He did," Harry nodded to Snape. "The blackest of magical arts, he said. That's necromancy, the forbidden art of Magecraft. Reviving the dead never bodes well."

Dumbledore looked intrigued. "I think, perhaps, that we are speaking different languages."

"Oh no, we are all speaking English," Fate answered. "What I believe to be the problem is cultural differences. I believe that we should all be careful in our wordings—and our accusations—for the remainder of this discussion if it is to remain civil. Let me state this. Magecraft has only one form of forbidden magic, and that is necromancy. I will forgive the slip this time," she said to Snape, "but I will not tolerate being accused of trying to disturb the dead again."

"And I am well aware of the long-term effects of Magecraft," Harry interrupted. Necromancy was a touchy topic for Fate Testarossa Harlaown, though he did not know why. Best to move away from that subject.

"My mothers were very clear on the matter from the beginning so my sister and I are both aware of this. Given the amount of magic they use for their work, Nanomum cannot expect to survive much past sixty five, while Okaasan will only make it to sixty, and that is only if they are not forced to expend even more energy in a fight against an enemy before then.

"Naturally, Vivio and I limit our use of magic because of this, but do not accuse our mothers of trying to kill us, Sir. Without the magic you claim is killing me, I would have died several times over by now." He was very clinical, he had to be. If he thought about it too much, it would hurt. Best to be distant.

"Physically, Harry and Vivio are incredibly healthy," Nanomum went on. "They eat well—mostly," here she shot Vivo a look, "and are physically active; their bodies are in shape. They are mentally stimulated with their schoolwork. And, as Harry said, we do not allow frivolous use of magic. They train, as all Mages do. Vivio's magic as the Kaiser does not drain life-force to the degree other Belkan magics do, and Harry's magic is support oriented, and that drains even less than Vivio's. Considering his level of training and activity, hmm, I would think…ah… you're better than me in math, Fate-chan, how much time has he lost?"

"The closest estimation I can come to is six months and seventeen days that Harry has lost from his normal life-span," Fate answered. "Because of the Cradle, Vivio has lost about a year. But because of the recent case, I expect I will _not_ survive to see sixty. Nanoha will outlive me by much longer than originally thought. Hayate should survive much longer. Her own introduction to magic cost her at least two decades, but circumstances have allowed her to be more frugal with her magic and remain out of direct combat more often than myself or Nanoha."

The wizards looked absolutely horrified at the matter-of-fact way they talked about their impending deaths. It amused Harry. Even knowing his Okaasan would die even sooner than expected, and knowing that it was partly his fault, he was amused. Her death was inevitable, and Harry was not bitter. He only hoped her end would be as noble as her life. Such is the price a hero must pay and such is the reward a hero deserves. He hoped his journey through life would have a glorious end too.

"I would be interested in learning this new type of magic," Harry said. The minister's face lit up. "But I have a few conditions." Snape sneered when Harry said this.

"And? What are they?" The grizzled man, Moody said. His dizzying eye was still trained on Fate.

"First, that I be called by my true name—I am a Harlaown, not a Potter. Second, my mothers are to be permitted to examine the school to determine any safety hazards; you must take them both seriously if they bring anything to your attention. Third, my mothers and sister are to be given permission to stay for the duration of my education here, if that is what they want. Fourth, Nanomum is a teacher, Okaasan is an Enforcer; I ask that they be allowed to take on similar roles for the duration of their stays, if they so desire it."

"What's an Enforcer?" Moody demanded suspiciously.

"Enforcers patrol the dimensional sea for criminals," Okaasan said. "We also investigate large-scale criminals and secure dangerous objects called Lost Logia for the safety of Administered and Unadministered planets."

"Fate-chan here is the Ace of the Navy," Nanoha said smugly. "She's the best of the best when it comes to Enforcers. She's even liberated a few planets."

"I had help," Fate said with a pout.

"Shamal patching you up afterward does not count as help."

Fate opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She sighed quietly, posture deflating, much like a toddler who was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Hayate has a higher rank, and Nanoha is the best combat instructor in the Academy."

"Lastly," Harry went on. The professors were staring at him now. "My sister Vivio should also be allowed to attend your school if she so chooses."

The four men on the couch looked to each other, trying to determine what to do. Harry supposed, they seemed at a loss. Even the headmaster, Dumbledore, did not quite seem to know how to take his demands. Harry wondered if they had figured out that he really only had one request—that his family go with him and be allowed to do what they wanted to do. Idleness was the bane of his family's existence, especially Okaasan's. If she was too bored, she would go looking for crime to stop.

Aunt Hayate looked rather put out. "Well if Nanoha-chan and Fate-chan get to stay, so do I! They need someone to keep them on a tight leash. Who knows what they would do otherwise."

"Hayate," Fate said slowly, softly, "I do not have a leash. Even if I did, I do not have a collar for you to hook it to."

Nanoha and Hayate looked at each other for a moment before bursting out into giggles; Fate looked very put out.

"It is an expression, then?" Fate asked, sighing. She shook her head. "I will never understand them. The phrases on this planet just do not make any sense!"

"Don't worry Fate-chan, it's part of your charm," Aunt Hayate said consolingly, her lips pulled up in a faint smile. Nanomum just cooed and took her hand. Vivio caught his gaze and rolled her eyes.

Dumbledore coughed politely to catch their attention. "I believe that something can be arranged. I do not foresee your mother being able to teach one of our normal courses, but perhaps an elective? One centered around the type of magic you use, a theoretical type class. Perhaps a seminar of some kind, where others in our world may come and learn. I believe the ministry would be interested in the theory of your magic."

Harry did not need to look at her to see her mouth twist in distaste. "Theory is boring," Nanoha said. "I am a combat instructor."

[We shoot things] Raising Heart added from Nanoha's pocket, earning more than a few startled and worried looks.

"I could teach melee combat if I am not needed as security, depending on what I find during my investigation," Fate said, looking pensive.

The minister coughed. "I was under the impression you were part of some military. Would your government allow you to take time away to be here?" He sounded like he desperately wanted her answer to be 'no'.

Aunt Hayate laughed. "Sure we can. We Aces have a tendency toward being workaholics. We're all on mandatory shore leave for the next two weeks. It's like a forced vacation," she began. Harry thought she was being very generous, calling their shore leave a vacation, when they all knew it was much more than that. Her Uncle was not looking very good. It seemed he had been too active. Still, it was odd that she shot his Okaasan a look. He wondered if there was something more to their so-called vacation. But that could not be right. Yes, she'd been injured not too long ago, but Shamal had healed her. She should be better.

"Aside from that, Nanoha-chan and I were born on this planet, so we are usually put in charge of missions here. And now that we know there is a magical community? It won't be a problem to be assigned here for the next two years if we wanted to examine your community. After that it would be a few more years to discuss terms."

"Terms?" Moody demanded. Harry had the impression he did not ask so much as demand answers most of the time.

"Terms," she said with a nod. "If you want to join the Administration Bureau, if you want us to stay out of your hair, alliances, that sort of thing. Negotiators will be sent. Why, Harry here might be our Ambassador, being part of both worlds and all. That is a long way off though, and really, there is no guarantee we'll want you."

Harry watched the minister huff in indignity and the aurors behind him scowl. He just loved seeing adults out of sorts. But then, he would freely admit he was more than a little biased.

"Indeed," the minister said, eyes straying to Harry.

The youngest Harlaown had a feeling that these people would do whatever he needed to keep him in England. Privately, Harry hoped they all went home and choked on their dinners. He did not like anyone who accused his Okaasan of any wrongdoing, and these people had made a variety of not-so-subtle comments since they'd sat down.

"But we can still use our shore leave to take a few guided tours of your world, what do you think Harry? Would that be enough time for you to decide if you want to stay for a bit?"

Two weeks. He could learn a lot. Uncle Yuuno taught him a bit of his magic, and while Harry was not as proficient, he could still read four books at once. Yes, he could do some touring, see the sights, read some books. If he could procure a wand, he could even teach himself magic. Two weeks, and he could go home, maybe, for a day or two to see Momoko-baasan and Shiro-jiisan, then back to Mid-Childa. Yes, he could do that. Maybe, if he learned enough, he could show some of his more obnoxious peers at the Academy his new skills. That was a rather pleasant thought.

"I think we can manage it, but Aunt Hayate, the reason we came…" he trailed off, not daring to look at the retired Admiral.

"I can manage well enough," Graham said. "I am not long for this world, and my girls are tired too. They will stay with me and when the end comes, fade with me."

Fate winced at the mention of the twins fading, but Harry did not know why.

"I know, Uncle, I know. But I would like to stay with you. Fate-chan and Nanoha-chan won't leave the kids alone. Black-san is here too. He may be a criminal, but from our questioning, he was never even given a trial. So, Fate-chan will find out if he actually killed the people they claim he did. He should be a good guide. He wants to be near Harry anyway, and Nanoha-chan and Fate-chan will deal with him and anyone else who bothers the kids. If nothing else, Signum wont' mind tagging along, keeping an eye out for them. Everything will be okay. I can stay with you," she said, tenderly taking his hand.

The old man smiled warmly. "Oh, Hayate. I am surely a lucky man, that I can call you family."

She smiled back, then leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"Ahem, yes, well," the Minister interjected. "The tour?"

"I think perhaps you might consider Diagon Alley," Dumbledore said. "That way, our younger members may get a wand, the elders too, should they desire it. Conveniently, I am aware of the textbooks needed for each year. I can help select appropriate texts should either of the children be interested in learning a little more."

Diagon Alley. Hogwarts. Who names these places? Harry did not want to know; from the look on her face, Vivio did.

"Yes, yes, Diagon Alley would be a good start for you," the minister said. "Shall we say tomorrow, then? That should give me enough time to clarify a few things with the public."

"And you, Signum? Will you go with them, watch their backs?" Aunt Hayate asked.

Signum was quiet for a moment but nodded. "I will look after them." Agito scowled, but nodded as well.

"We won't need an escort," Nanomum said. "Black-san can show us around."

"And I'll head to the ministry," Moody said. "You said Black never got a trial? Well, I'll see about that. If his story doesn't hold water, I'll know—and I'll be back. Then you will need one of us as your guide. And don't think you'll be able to stand in my way, Girly," he said to Fate.

Fate did not respond, merely looked at him calmly. She wasn't taking him seriously, Harry knew. If she was, Enforcer Harlaown would have surfaced.

"I do not think you understand the gravity of your words," Nanomum said. "Yesterday, Fate-chan said she'd take his," she nodded to Dumbledore, "hand for making Harry uncomfortable. She wasn't lying, and he couldn't have stopped her. There is a reason they call her the Speed Demon."

"Just like there is a reason they call Nanoha-chan the White Devil!" Hayate was quick to joke.

Harry smiled at his mothers, then let it morph into a smirk as he looked at the intruders, specifically at the headmaster; they looked very uncomfortable. Diagon Alley, then Hogwarts. He wondered how long the school would still be standing with the Takamachi-Harlaown family in residence.

-MaW-

"Well, Severus?"

"Their minds were impenetrable," Severus Snape confirmed. He took a sip of tea. "He seems healthy enough."

"And happy. He loves them," Dumbledore said, nodding, "and even these old eyes can see he is loved in return."

Severus sneered, but did not say anything. The headmaster watched him for a moment. He wondered if the potions master was happy that Lily's son had found happiness, or if he felt betrayed that the boy loved not one but two women as his mother instead of Lily. He would never ask, so he supposed he would never know.

"I was afraid for a very long time," Dumbledore went on. He absently picked up a chess piece, a pawn. "I feared he would be lost forever, Voldemort would return and we would be defenseless. Now he is returned to us, strong, healthy, and happy. I think he would have suffered much if he was not adopted into such an unusual family. It does this ailing heart of mine good to know he avoided such a life. I had feared word of his death for so long, so long."

Neither spoke for a long while, until the silence was broken when Fawkes trilled softly, soothingly.

"His mother, the one he calls Okaasan, she is interesting. Fate T. Harlaown. She is very powerful…and very unusual. I had thought her to be a practitioner of the dark arts, but having spoken with her I can see that I was very wrong. She is a good mother, very protective of her children, very loving. Looking back on it, it is a small wonder she did me no harm when I threatened to take the boy she raised from her. But I wonder…"

"Headmaster?"

Dumbledore sighed. He returned the pawn to the board. "There is death in the wind, Severus. Destiny has been denied long enough, and now it has come to remind us that it is always there, always waiting. Let us hope young Harry's adopted family has crafted a true hero, for all our sake."

-THE PHOTO ALBUM-

_SNAP!_

There is a photo of a family. There is a boy sitting on a blonde woman's lap, tears streaming from his emerald eyes. The blonde has a split lip and a black eye. There is a girl with dirty blonde hair and mismatched eyes who has slipped under the woman's arm and is hugging the boy from behind. Under the woman's other arm is a brunette. The brunette woman is folded in on herself so that her head can rest on the blonde's shoulder, making her gaze level with the boy's.

The back reads: _Downstairs living room_

_Vivio (7), Fate (20), Harry (6), Nanoha (20). _

Far from England, on the distant planet called Mid-Childa, stands a quaint little house. It is called the Takamachi-Harlaown residence.

The top floor of the house is above ground, and while it is well kept, it is rarely used. It is primarily for entertaining. There is a formal dining room, a kitchen, a spacious entertainment room, a few bedrooms—now guestrooms—two elaborate bathrooms. It is usually empty. Only the garage, which houses a beloved car, sees frequent use.

The family prefers to stay downstairs, underground, when they are home. Even though one member is claustrophobic, for the children, she braves the enclosed space. There are two underground floors, one a vast living room, a kitchen, a dining room, two bathrooms, and two offices. The next floor down is the bedrooms. There is the master bedroom, shared by Fate and Nanoha, with their own en suite bathroom. Then there is Harry's room and Vivio's room. They are across the hall from each other, and just a few steps from Fate and Nanoha's room. Every room is spacious for Nanoha's sake, since there are no windows. It makes her feel a little better. The sense of security her children have makes her feel much better.

They had moved downstairs not long after the thunderstorm where there are no windows and so no lightning to frighten the children that live there. Nanoha and Fate are worried. Harry has always kept himself apart, but now he is pulling away even further, even from Fate. They are thinking that perhaps they should move back upstairs, despite their safety concerns. Surprisingly, despite her claustrophobia, it is Nanoha who is fighting to stay belowground. Fate wants to find a way to have windows for Nanoha without compromising safety. Mostly, she wants to find out what is wrong with her son.

Vivio comes into the living room, carrying a stuffed rabbit. She watches Harry stack blocks, un-stack them, and restack them. She does not quite know what to make of this boy. He has lived with her and her mamas for close to a year now—she is not sure if it has been just over or just under a year, but she knows it has been about a year—and he has never spoken to her. He has never spoken to her Nanoha-mama either. He talks to Fate-mama sometimes.

Vivio used to be jealous until Nanoha-mama sat her down and explained a little bit about Harry. She knew that what her Nanoha-mama said was true. She walked in on him accidentally when he was changing his shirt. She saw his scars, even though he tried to hide them. She isn't jealous anymore. She understands. She's seen Fate-mama's scars too, after all.

"You have to be patient, my Vivio," Nanoha-mama told her. "Your Fate-mama has asked that we let him choose when to talk to us. I don't understand it, but your Fate-mama thinks it is important. We have to trust her on this one."

Vivio feels she has been patient enough. She has waited this long, and she does not intend to wait anymore. She walks up to Harry and sits across from him. She picks up a block, and Harry immediately drops the one in his hand. He folds his hands in his lap and looks down, fingers intertwining, knuckles white.

Vivio watches him as she mindlessly stacks the blocks, waiting for him to start playing with her, but she is not paying attention, and the unsteady tower tumbles over. Harry flinches, and his shoulders slump. Vivio does not understand his reaction, but continues to play with the blocks. Harry's lip quivers, and Vivio can see tears forming. When the first tear slides down his cheek, Vivio realizes that she has made a mistake, even if she is not sure exactly what she has done wrong. She should have waited. She does the only thing she can think to do and runs for her Nanoha-mama. She has the day off. Fate-mama is training the Enforcer cadets and won't be home until late.

Nanoha-mama rushes in and tries to comfort him, but he cringes away from her and starts crying. He speaks, finally, but Vivio wishes he was still silent.

"I'm sorry," he bawls, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." It's all he can say, and Vivio wants to stomp and shout and tell him to be quiet because now Nanoha-mama is upset and crying and everything is wrong.

Then there is the surge of magic and a rotating yellow Mage Circle appears on the floor. Fate-mama materializes. Her hair is mussed, her lip is bleeding, there is a dark ring around her left eye and there is smoke on her cheek, but she is there.

"Fate-chan? How are you—"

"Hudson sent an emergency transmission to Bardiche," she explains, scooping the boy up and setting him in her lap as she sits on the ground. This is not the first time the Intelligent Device that guards the house has alerted her because of something that happened to Harry. He only cries harder.

Frustrated, Vivio stalks up and slides under Fate-mama's arm and hugs Harry from behind. There are several reasons for this. First, she is jealous of the attention he is getting, even if she is ashamed to admit it. Second, she feels guilty for not waiting like Nanoha-mama told her. It's her fault Harry is upset. And thirdly, he is Fate-mama's son, just like she is Fate-mama's daughter. That makes him her brother. Family, her mamas tell her, is very important. Family is to be cherished. She doesn't know what cherished means, but she does know what important means.

"Hush, little brother, hush, your Vivio nee-chan is here," she croons to him, patting his messy hair. She feels silly doing it, but it calms him down a little, so she continues to pat him on the head.

"Oh Harry, my sweet Harry, it is okay, your mamas are here now. Just tell us what is wrong and we will make it better," Fate-mama tells him gently.

This makes him cry harder, and Vivo thinks her Fate-mama made a mistake until she speaks again.

"That is it, Harry, cry as much as you need. We can wait for you."

Looking over Harry's head, Vivo can see Nanoha-mama, her head resting on Fate-mama's shoulder. She does not look comfortable at all, curled and folded like that, but she does not complain. Instead, she starts to sing a song. Vivio wishes she wouldn't sing. She was never very good at it—Fate-mama is better—but eventually Harry stops crying. He sniffles a bit as Nanoha-mama continues to sing and Vivio coos, while Fate-mama holds them all.

Eventually, they fall silent. After long minutes of just watching, Harry speaks.

"Dream?" His voice is hoarse.

Nanoha-mama's eyes are very sad. "Oh Harry, my little boy. No, this is not a dream. You are here with your Nanoha-mama and your Fate-mama and your Vivio nee-chan. We are your family now, and we will keep you safe. We love you so much."

And then he's crying again, but Nanoha-mama and Fate-mama are smiling. When Vivio looks into her Nanoha-mama's eyes, she can see her brother reflected in them, and she smiles too. She hugs him a little tighter. She sighs happily and rests her head on Fate-mama's shoulder.

Even though her brother is crying, he is smiling too.

-chapter end-

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha/Mahou Shojou Lyrical Nanoha.

A/N: Happy Holidays! I celebrate Christmas, myself, but whatever it is any of you celebrate, I hope it has been a wonderful day for you.

So, the tight-leash comment. Different countries/cultures have unique ways of talking. The English have bookworms; the French have library rats. What the British call swots are what people in the United States call nerds/geeks. Fate is brilliant, but she is also very literal. As the top Enforcer, she would end up in going to a lot of different planets, different cultures, all that stuff. She would be exposed to a lot. Yuuno may be an expert on ancient cultures, but Fate is an expert on modern cultures, especially since she goes everywhere. She spends so much time in different cultures that even for her, it's hard to keep everything straight. Thus, she is very literal.

In the meantime, I would appreciate some reviews. What's right, what's wrong, that sort of thing. I like constructive criticism.

Au revoir,

Hatter


	7. Part One, Chapter Seven

Magecraft and Wizardry

Part One: The Misfit Mage

Chapter Seven: A (Not So) Grand Entrance

Harry sat bolt upright, panting. His heart hammered in his chest, and he could feel every drop of blood as it pumped through his body. That dream again. He hated it. Even being in England, where he suffered constant worry over meeting the Dursleys, he could not escape it. He shivered, feeling the cold sweat against his skin. Still, not even the chill was enough to drive away the lingering sense of being bound, of hopelessness.

He took in several deep breaths to regulate his body. It took longer than he wanted, but he managed. Disgraceful. He needed to practice his mediation. He would need to manage himself better if this were a combat situation.

Woof looked up at him with red eyes, head cocked to the side. His bushy tail thumped against the bed. The Mid-Childan wolf whimpered lightly in worry. Harry patted his head lightly to calm him. It seemed to soothe the pup and had the added bonus of helping Harry a bit as well.

He looked at the clock. Not even five in the morning. He never should have let himself drift off. If he had stayed awake this would not have happened, but he was due to visit Diagon Alley today, and he was told he needed to rest. He had slept some, but he had not rested. He hated England. It was the home of the Dursleys, of his drunkard parents.

Ah, but they were not drunkards. They were heroes who'd died to save him. Heroes that he had hated for years and years. Harry felt a familiar sense of loathing. It was like an old friend, or perhaps a lover. Not that he had any knowledge of lovers. He rather likened it to one though, an old lover that came back to haunt him from time to time, comforting to him because it was so familiar.

And really, he'd spent so much time hating himself that it was perfectly normal to him. For being the son of lay about drunks, for having magic, for not being powerful, for…no, he did not want to think about that. But now all that he knew was turned on its head. The Potters were heroes, he loved his magic, he was powerful here in the wizarding world, and he could do something, be something, that would be worthy of the Harlaown name. It was an uphill battle, one he struggled with every day.

Harry rubbed his face. He wished he were younger. Then he could crawl into bed with his mothers, and they would cuddle him and coo at him. There would be no shame in that. Of course, he knew he could crawl in with them now and it would be alright, but still, with both of them so close to him, well, that might not be for the best. Instead he showered, washing away the sweat from the dream, and readied for his day.

The Minister had said he would make an announcement to the witches and wizards of the world, letting them know that he had returned, that he was not kidnapped, and that he would be accompanied by his mother and Sirius Black, who would receive a trial. It was a lot for the people of the wizarding world to take in. When Harry read the complimentary newspaper he was sent, called the Daily Prophet, he quickly decided it was not worth the paper it was printed on, even if the pictures did move (something he refused to admit fascinated him).

Like the Minister, it stated he had only one mother. It did not even identify if it was Okaasan or Nanomum, though he was certain it meant the former. It left Vivio out altogether. The article painted him to be some sort of dullard, who had walked blindly along and did as he was told to do by his totalitarian mother who was some kind of Dark Witch. Their sole piece of evidence was her red eyes.

Vivio thought it was hilarious, crowing that she was half evil by virtue of having one red eye. Nanomum had spent a full ten minutes cooing over Okaasan, telling her how pretty her eyes were, and these wizards just didn't understand true beauty. Everything about the article just made Harry angry. It was some sort of plot to turn the world against his Okaasan, and he would not have it. It was too much like the rumors that ran around school about her bloodline.

Harry did not know much about the woman who brought his Okaasan into the world, but surely she could not be so terrible if Fate was her daughter. Besides, stories were often exaggerated, and genius was often mistaken for madness. She'd said, once, that Precia-Baasan died with Okaasan's older sister, Alicia. That was fitting of a loving mother, he thought. It was why, to this day, there was a picture of Precia and Alicia, both smiling, on display in their house on Mid-Childa, and another copy on the nightstand on Fate's side of the bed wherever she went.

No, he did not much care for the picture of his mother the article painted. If anyone wanted an interview from him, he would have a few choice words for them. It would all be politically correct of course, he was a Harlaown after all. Besides that, he was the son of two Aces. So, he was very much in the public eye. Aunt Hayate had taught him plenty about talking without saying anything, and saying a lot without saying anything at all.

Harry stepped out of the shower and pulled on his underclothing. It was still early. He opted for mediation. There was no sense in working out if he would just need to shower again. Instead, he took a deep breath and cleared his mind. Concentrating, he was able to make himself levitate. It was the first step in using magic like Uncle Yuuno's, but he had no books to read. Still, this was the part he struggled with; his magic never seemed to want to lift him, and had to be forced. Flying was an entirely different spell and much easier to manage for Harry, so he practiced his levitation often.

He did not know how long he hovered a few feet in the air before he lowered himself to the ground, feeling rested. He stretched and turned, only to find Sirius Black watching him in awe.

"That's impossible," he whispered, shaking his head.

"Clearly not," Harry replied crisply. "Can I help you, Black-san?"

The man's mouth shut with an audible snap. He cleaned his throat and looked at Harry uncomfortably. He appeared at a loss. Harry took pity on him. Not much, he was still an adult, but some.

"So," he began, "what can you tell me about the world you come from?"

"Well, levitation is against the laws of our magic, for one."

"Funny thing about magic, it has quite a few contradictory laws, so if you think about it, they are not really laws at all. We have to figure out the rules and the exceptions." Harry could not keep the snide undertone out of his voice. "Levitation is possible when an anti-gravity spell is used in conjunction with a stability spell focused internally—on the body—and not externally—on something else. The tricky part is doing all of that at once without a Device. Simple, once you know the secret."

He didn't tell the man he knew how to fly. He was saving that skill for a later time.

"I see," the older man replied, clearly at a loss. "Right. Well. Our first stop will probably be Gringotts. That's our bank, you see. Your parents—the Potters—set up an account for you years ago, a trust fund. It's common practice among wizards to set up those accounts with enough gold that you can get your supplies with the interest alone by the time you turn eleven. After graduation the principal—the original money—would be moved back to the familial vault.

"After Gringotts we'll probably get your robes. Those take the longest, since they need to be made. We can get you measured and finish your shopping while they are properly tailored. From there, we can go anywhere you want. Dumbledore sent you a Hogwarts letter this morning, so we have the full list of all of the texts and supplies you need."

"I doubt that we can go _wherever_ I want, but what places are available?" Harry deftly pushed aside his annoyance at someone opening his mail.

"There's a pet shop, a magical menagerie, so you could get a familiar."

"Woof is watching us right now," he answered, gesturing to the frost-colored wolf staring at them. "I have no need for another companion."

"Right, I know. I just wanted to tell you so that you can make that choice yourself. Regardless, there are plenty of other things to do there. There's the Quality Quidditch Supplies shop. Quidditch is our sport, see, played on brooms. Flying brooms. I think you'd like it. Your dad played." He looked excited, even hopeful when talking.

"I don't have a father," Harry said firmly. "I have two mothers."

"Of course," Sirius agreed, nodding. "James Potter played."

Well, at least he was not arguing, but he seemed a little too compliant, and compliant adults (in Harry's experience) were always after something. Harry decided to let it pass. "And what else? I have little time for sports and games. Is there anything else there? A combat readiness shop, perhaps?"

"What are you, some kind of drone?" Sirius finally burst out, his frustration clear. "Don't you do anything for fun?"

Harry looked at him impassively. "I have a great many things I can do for fun. Okaasan insisted that Vivio and I both find things outside of our training to enjoy. It is to prevent karoshi—overworking oneself to death." Sirius gaped at him. "Now if you will excuse me, I need to dress." With that, Harry stepped around him and went to his room.

"I'm trying!" Sirius called after him. "I'm really trying Harry, but it would help me out if you would give me a chance." Harry did not stop.

Sirius Black was an adult, and adults were not to be trusted. No matter how battered, how beaten he had been, adults always looked the other way. Doctors, teachers, all of them. None could be trusted, especially not the ones proclaiming to only want to help. Those were the worst.

Harry wondered at Black's game. Thoughts plagued him as he pulled on his outfit. It was the same as the one he wore the day before. He examined himself; from his shiny shoes to his crisply creased trousers and freshly pressed jacket. Perfect.

He found the rest of his family. Vivio was dressed, mostly. She was wearing a uniform similar to his but the jacket was not buttoned, and she kept trying to smooth a wrinkle from her skirt. His mothers opted for their Barrier Jackets, while Signum was sitting silently, already wearing her Armor. Glaive permitted him to see through the glamour that had already been cast to conceal their Barrier Jackets and weapons. He was not surprised. They were not interested in playing nice, but they didn't necessarily want everyone else to know.

Some might consider them paranoid, and in truth, Harry could not argue. They were paranoid, and with good reasons. The Takamachi-Harlaown family had a lot of enemies, something Harry knew quite well.

"Good morning," Nanoha said warmly.

"Good morning, Nanomum, Okaasan, Aunt Signum, Viv."

"Call me that one more time, and I'll bloody your nose," Vivio said without heat. She seemed more interested in the cinnamon rolls on the table.

"Vivio!" Nanoha chided.

"Where's Agito?" He asked, looking around.

"Staying here," Signum said, though she did not elaborate.

Fate approached him. "How did you sleep?" She asked softly.

Harry suppressed a shrug. "As well as I expected," he answered.

"Not well then," she said, setting her hand on his shoulder and giving a gentle squeeze. He nodded solemnly. "Perhaps we can leave for a time, visit your grandparents. A quick visit, a short nap, that is all, just to get you back on your feet."

"I can manage, Okaasan. We don't need to do anything special."

Fate nodded. "As you wish. Are you ready? We will leave in a few minutes. We are to meet some of those wizards soon. Nanoha ensured that we will not have someone monitoring us up close, but we will be expected to talk to people."

Harry nodded. "Where are we going?"

"The same place they discovered you. The Leaky Cauldron."

Harry nodded. "Well, we'd better let them try and impress us," Harry said dryly.

"They won't need to try," Sirius said, appearing in the doorway. "It is impressive in its own right."

"I've looked at this planet from beyond its moon and watched it fade away as the ship I was on sailed the dimensional sea. I was five. I have since seen many impressive sights on other planets. I think this little outing will be very tame, but I will try and keep an open mind," he replied calmly.

"Harry," Okaasan's voice was soft, but the rebuke was plain.

Still, Harry did not apologize. She did not like it when he apologized without sincere regret. So, he would not offer false platitudes.

"We're going to have to work out who will sit on whose lap. We have one too many for Fate-mama's car," Vivio chimed. She licked icing off of her fingers and sighed happily. "I love those."

Harry groaned. "Not me. Last time I had to sit on Aunt Shamal's lap while Aunt Hayate took pictures. It's someone else's turn."

-MaW-

Harry spent the entire ride squeezed between Vivio and Signum—Black was on Vivio's other side. Harry was very concerned about his continued health as he was dangerously close to Signum's chest. For his own safety, he kept his eyes shut the entire time. Upfront, he knew, Nanoha and Fate were sitting comfortably, holding hands like they normally did.

"We're here," Nanomum said with a hint of despair. She loved leisurely car rides. "Guess we need to get out so the kids can get supplies." She didn't move from her seat. Harry pulled his head away from Signum and risked opening his eyes. True to form, they were holding hands, finders entwined.

"Ready?" Fate asked them.

"I guess," she replied. She sighed rather dramatically. "But can you get my door for me, Fate-chan?"

Fate did not even blink, merely slid out of her seat, walked around the car, and let Nanoha out. It was an everyday occurrence in a sense, Fate pandering to Nanoha. Nanoha smiled up at the blonde, and Harry could see his Okaasan smile warmly in return. At heart, there was little that Fate loved more than doting on her family. Opening doors for them was something of a treat for her. It was a chore to some, but to his mother, who was often away for her work, it was something to be cherished.

Nanomum smiled as she stepped from Cardiche, a name Vivio had affectionately named their mother's car. Harry himself breathed a sigh of relief when Signum got out, freeing him up to move about. As one, the family turned to the door they had walked through not so long ago, Okaasan holding the door for them again. This time, though, Signum lead the way while Okaasan guarded the rear.

The room was brightly lit, more so than their last trip. There were also more people there. The tables were packed, people were leaning against the walls, and standing in aisles. He did not have to guess why. Though, it was strange to consider they were there for him and not his mothers.

Still, after he looked around, he straightened his uniform and, with the air of a Lord, he offered his arm to his sister. He was a gentleman, after all, and he would not let the gaping masses make him forget his manners. Okaasan had already taken Nanomum's arm. Black looked awkwardly at Signum, but the woman scowled at him and gestured for him to lead the way.

No one approached, but that may have been because Signum carried her sword openly, and Bardiche and Raising Heart were held at the ready as well, even if the Barrier Jackets were still concealed. There were many curious whispers, both about Black and himself, but from what he heard, there was a lot of speculation on Vivio and which of the two women behind him was his mother. Harry did his best to ignore them. Vivio did better than he did—Harry glowered at a woman who hissed at his Okaasan—but he did well enough.

Black lead them to the back of the building, then shifted awkwardly. "I don't have a wand," he admitted, "so I can't get us through the barrier."

"How does the barrier work?" Signum asked.

"You tap the bricks in a pattern and it opens."

Signum hefted her sword. "Perhaps a Device will suffice. What is the pattern?"

"Just tap it," Black instructed as he pointed to the blocks. Signum lightly tapped each one as they were pointed out. Nothing. No portal appeared, no doorway opened. "Well that was anticlimactic," Black murmured.

"A wand is needed. Perhaps my own may be of service?" A smooth voice responded. The group turned to see a man with long platinum blond hair. Beside him stood a woman with honeyed curls and a boy about Harry's age.

"We need no help from a Malfoy," Black said coldly. The man shifted slightly, putting his body between Harry and the newcomers.

The blonde woman sniffed while the man looked on impassively. "I dare say if we do not, you may be here for some time."

"We would appreciate your assistance," Nanoha said politely. Fate was giving Black a hard look. Her eyes flickered to the yellow ribbon around his neck, a reminder of his role.

Black ignored the warning. "Trust me, we want nothing to do with his kind," he spat the last word.

"You should reconsider your situation, Black," Fate said softly. "You are still a criminal, even if you are innocent of the crimes you have been accused of here. You are not innocent of your crime against me. Mind your manners." It was not a request.

Black's jaw clenched, but he stepped back. Harry suspected he was very aware of the yellow ribbon that served as the symbol of his servitude. It must have felt like a collar, fitting since he shifted into a dog.

The man, Malfoy, gave him an impassive look. He twirled his wand idly. "If I may, I am Lord Lucius Malfoy. This is my wife, Lady Narcissa Malfoy, and our son, Draco."

"I am Fate T. Harlaown," Okaasan said, bowing slightly. "This is Bardiche Assault."

[Salutations.]

"I am Takamachi Nanoha," Nanomum continued. "And this is Raising Heart Excellion."

[Greetings.]

"Takamachi Vivio," Vivio said, dipping into a slight curtsy. She said nothing about her Device, but she held tight to the bunny all the same.

"Harry T. Harlaown." He bowed. He took his cue from his sister and refrained from mentioning Glaive.

Signum raised a brow at them. "Signum the Soul, Commander of the Wolkenritter, Sword Knight of the Mistress of the Night Sky." She raised her sword. "The Fiery Demon Blade Laevatein."

If anyone in his family thought it odd that Signum gave such an introduction, no one pointed it out. But none of the Malfoys dared move any closer to her, either.

"If you could, please, we would greatly appreciate your assistance in opening the door," Nanomum chimed.

"My pleasure, I assure you," Lord Malfoy answered. He brandished his wand almost mockingly in front of Black, before tapping the bricks in the same pattern Black had shown them earlier.

Harry watched as the bricks jerked and rotated themselves away from the center to reveal Diagon Alley. It would be his first real chance to experience the Wizarding world that was supposedly his true home. He hesitated a moment then stepped through.

Harry forced himself to remain impassive as he looked around. He wanted to gape. Even in all of his travels, he had never seen a place quite like this. It was like looking into a mirror and seeing history played out. He supposed he was only so fascinated because of his Uncle Yuuno's influence. He wanted to run around like he was a child again and go exploring.

Were it not for Vivio holding tightly to his arm, he might have. He travelled to dozens of planets. Seen the stars as he passed them by on a spaceship. Done so much, seen so much, and yet he wanted to peer into every vendor's stall like an undisciplined child.

"Well, we have tasks that require our attention," Lord Malfoy said. "Draco starts his fourth year at Hogwarts this year. We need to get his supplies." He smiled genially. "Perhaps we shall meet again." He inclined his head slightly and moved away, his family doing the same.

"I want you two to stay far away from Lord Malfoy," Okaasan said softly when they were a ways off. "He is not a good man."

Black glowered at her. "That is what I tried to say from the start!"

Fate raised a slender brow. "In a very rude way," she agreed. "You were also very obvious about your suspicions. You will need to be more subtle in the future. It will only cause more harm to reveal to your enemy that you know he is an enemy." She nodded toward the departing family. "I am an Enforcer. I catch people like him, and I know how to handle them. As my Aide, you will have to learn the same."

Black gaped at her. Harry smirked at Black. Fate, however, turned to Harry. "His son is not lost," she said, her message clear.

Harry nodded solemnly and smoothed his expression. "Black-san, you suggested Gringotts earlier, didn't you?"

Black snapped himself out of his daze. He cleared his throat. "Yes, ah, right this way."

Harry allowed himself a moment to look around. Here he was, a wizard raised among mages. Now he would be a mage among wizards. He wondered what the future had in store for a Halfling like him. Part of him could not wait to find out. It is that part of him that convinces him to step through the portal—to the next stage of his life.

-THE PHOTO ALBUM-

_SNAP! _

There is a photo of two children, brother and sister. They are young. The boy is covered from head to toe in flour. The girl has butter in her hair and a gloppy mixture of eggs and flour dripping down her front.

The back reads: _Chefs in the making._

_Harry (6) and Vivio (7)._

Far from England, on the distant planet called Mid-Childa, stands a quaint little house. It is called the Takamachi-Harlaown residence.

Outside, Nanoha works in the garden. She is a little confused, since Harry usually comes out and works on his patch. She is a little upset because he has thawed somewhat since their group hug days before in the living room. Now, she wonders why he has chosen today, of all days, to pull away again.

Inside, downstairs, the kitchen is spacious and the appliances are all of the highest quality. Harry is dressed in clothes that fit him, something he still is not used to and does not know quite what to make of it all. He stands in the kitchen, looking through cabinets and drawers, searching for the tools of the trade.

Fate, Nanoha, and Vivio have been so wonderful, so kind. They did not make fun of him when he cried, did not threaten to get the belt. He wants to show them that he sees this, that he is not an ungrateful brat, that he can be useful. No, this is not a dream, but it is a Good Thing, and Good Things do not last long, not for him. He has decided that making breakfast will show that he sees this, that he is grateful, that he is useful, that he should be allowed to stay.

Pancakes, he decides. It is easy enough for him to make on his own, and his uncle and cousin like them a lot. At least, they eat a lot of them, so they must be good. He has mixed the batter and made four already when Vivio walks in. He does not notice this, but is going about measuring the ingredients for another set of pancakes. Dudley could eat five pancakes, and Uncle Vernon could eat eight. He does not know how many to make. He pours in the carefully measured amount of flour.

"What are you doing, Harry?"

"Breakfast." The word is rushed. He is used to having to explain himself in one or two words, since it's usually all he has time for before Uncle Vernon reaches him. His voice is still hoarse. He is not used to speaking yet, though he has said more in the last few days than he has in the year before.

"If you are hungry, you can just ask Nanoha-mama or Fate-mama. They are both very good cooks. Except, Fate-mama is not very good at baking. You should never eat any cookies she makes." Vivio shudders a little as she says this, and Harry thinks that she must be wrong, because it is not possible for Fate to not do something right.

Instead, he turns away and goes back to cooking. He really wants to do this right.

"Can I help?" Vivio asks. Harry wants to tell her no, that this is a special gift from him to her and her mothers for being so kind, but he does not think she will take no for an answer, especially since she is pulling on an apron. He nods. There really isn't anything else he can do.

Vivio pulls up a stool beside the one he is using, and it becomes readily apparent that Vivio has no idea what she is doing. Harry has cooked for the Dursleys before, and they were picky about their food. He does not think Vivio has ever cooked before. She is adding extra eggs to the batter and she is not bothering to pick out all of the eggshell pieces. Then he watches as she dumps cinnamon into the mix. Cinnamon would not be bad, he thinks, but she is still pouring and it is too much. Next she grabs the salt, and Harry watches in horror as she pours it into the bowl, seemingly content to watch the steady stream of salt.

She will ruin the pancakes. She will ruin them and Fate will think it was his fault and send him back to his aunt and uncle's house. Desperately, he tries to stop her, but in reaching for the salt, he slips forward and knocks the large bowl full of flour and eggs and cinnamon and salt all over her.

Vivio stares at him, slack-jawed for a moment, before she picks up the bag of flour and dumps it over his head. It covers his glasses and he cannot see. Blinking rapidly he looks over the rim of his glasses. They fall, obligingly, down to the tip of his nose. Harry sneezes. Vivio giggles.

"What exactly is going on here?" Nanoha's voice snaps them to attention. Harry trembles. He does not see the amused look in her eyes or the slight upturn of her lips. Vivio does not either.

Harry watches Vivio slide off her stool and step forward and knows his fate is sealed. She will blame him and he will have to go back to the Dursleys. It is what Dudley has already done several times, and he knows it will happen again, now. Perhaps this happiness has been a dream all along.

"It's my fault," she says, and Harry can only stare in confusion.

-chapter end-

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha/Mahou Shojou Lyrical Nanoha.

A/N: So. Of all the things to get upset over, it's their lifespans. This is what gets you up in arms? That I seriously considered the implications of their work and magic use and came to the conclusion that it would kill them sooner rather than later? Have to say, I honestly thought you would all be more bothered by the vague implication that Fate has something akin to a split personality…unless you all overlooked the bit about Enforcer Harlaown. Cheers to Major Mike Powell III who did catch it. *Salutes*

Also, one of my Betas informed me that I should warn readers that this story WILL get darker. If you've ready anything else I've written, you'll know that no matter how light it starts off, something bad always happens. _Delusions of Mediocrity_ started off pretty cheery and if you've read it, well, you know how it ends, and _Spiral_ and _The Deuce_ start off tragic and only get worse. _Stargazing_ is the lightest piece I have written, and I keep the main couple apart for (literally) millennia. Consider yourself forewarned, and take this opportunity to find something nice to read instead if this is not your cup of tea.

On the other hand, I have a poll up. I have a few ideas for one-shots, but I can't really pick which one to focus on when I'm not working on one of my other fics. Go ahead and take a look at the poll and vote if you wouldn't mind. I'll leave it open for a few weeks.

In the meantime, thank you for reading and please review!

Au revoir,

Hatter


	8. Part One, Chapter Eight

Magecraft and Wizardry

Part One: The Misfit Mage

Chapter Eight: Gringotts

The family followed Sirius as he led them down the length of the alley. Many people were staring openly at them. Several kids were outright mesmerized by his mothers now that they had dropped their glamours, and Harry was well aware how impressive their Barrier Jackets looked. Signum drew her fair share of attention too, but the sunlight glinting off of Laevatein kept anyone from coming too close. Harry did not mind.

So they walked forward with no one to trouble them. They nearly made it to the bank itself before anything happened.

A man with a camera dashed forward, intent on snapping a picture. His endeavor ended poorly, however, when Signum cut his camera in half. She grabbed him roughly by the collar of his shirt. "Next time," she said, "I will take an ear. Spread the word to your cohorts."

The man fell back, landing hard on his rear. He then proceeded to scramble backwards to get away, mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Perhaps you were too harsh, Signum," Fate suggested.

Signum did not reply, merely continued on her original path. Black let her move a few steps ahead before he started walking, careful not to get too close. Harry and Vivio shared amused looks before moving forward. It was not long before they reached the bank. The building was large and odd looking, but Harry was not bothered. He'd seen his fair share of oddities.

Like the small beings that ran the bank; Goblins, apparently. Harry wanted to say he was not surprised given all that he had seen in his short life, but he was. He was sorely tempted to sit down with one and talk all day. As the son of two Aces, he travelled fairly often, and personally enjoyed studying other cultures. He wanted to learn more about this one.

"Name?" The goblin they approached demanded, not even looking up. It seemed that even if Harry wanted to discuss Goblin Life, goblins did not.

"Harry Potter would like access to his vault, number 687," Black said quickly.

"Does Mister Potter have his key?" The goblin said, glowering at him with black eyes. The goblin's frost colored hair caught the light momentarily. Harry was, briefly, intimidated, but he reminded himself that he was a Harlaown, and would not be cowed so easily.

"My apologies," Harry glanced quickly at the nameplate "Griphook-san. Black-san is mistaken. My name is Harry T. Harlaown, though I am the biological child of the Potters. I have been told to access my vault that I may make the necessary purchases—wands and texts and the like. Unfortunately, I do not have a key to that vault. Is there another way I can gain access, since the Potters are long since deceased and their key likely lost?"

The goblin gave him a calculating look, then nodded slowly. "There are other ways. It is possible to test your bloodline, determine your lineage." He leaned back on his stool.

"May I ask why?" Fate questioned quietly.

The goblin looked at her, but did not so much as blink. "You may. It is to be sure his blood type matches our records of those eligible to access the selected vault. Wizarding parents bring their child shortly after birth to have their blood taken and added to their account. If this is not the case for him, we can still compare it to the blood of James and Lily Potter to determine a relationship. We use magic, of course, so it is all done automatically. Though unlikely, if he should be the heir to another family as well, this will be revealed. If you wish to open your own accounts, a blood sample would be needed. We can do so, if you wish," Griphook answered.

"For a price?" Nanoha enquired.

"For a small fee, yes," Griphook agreed.

"It would make sense, Nanoha," Fate said. "Even if Harry leaves, he will still have ties to this world. We should be able to access it whenever we need it. Besides, Vivio may want to stay, and she may need some of their currency."

"Silly Fate-chan, you don't need to explain it to me. I was going to say the same thing. It's a good idea to get a family vault of our own," Nanoha said cheerily.

The goblin nodded sharply. "How will you make your deposit?"

"I can lend you some money from my vault if you need it," Black said. "There is not a hold on my account, not even when I was locked up, so I can give you some spending money for now."

Harry wondered what Black was getting at with his generous offer.

"We have some," Fate replied. "I have Japanese Yen and English pounds. I have more in various accounts in the civilian world. Can you access it, if I give you the information?"

"It will cost extra to deal with muggles," Griphook warned.

"I understand," Fate nodded.

He gave them a stack of forms. "These will need to be completed. You will find information within regarding our standard service fees and special service fees. In the meantime, I will need a sample of blood from Mister Harlaown to determine if he is of the Potter line."

Harry decided then and there that he liked goblins. They did not care that his mother had red eyes and they did not call him Harry Potter. Yes, he really liked goblins. He was reluctant to give up some of his blood however. Magecraft did not delve into the forbidden arts often, but there are always renegades in every craft, and among the most vile were those who used blood to enslave others.

But the goblins here belonged to a society of their own, one driven by money. He supposed that if word got out about such deeds, they would lose their business. And really, Black had not argued, and since he was trying to get into Harry's good graces, he supposed the older man would intervene if this was truly dangerous. Deciding it would be safe enough, he swallowed his words and offered his hand.

The process was painless. That may have been because he trained with elite mages, and after countless sparring matches that ended with him flat on his back and needing to be carried somewhere, a little finger prick was nothing. He was not about to complain. He watched as the blood was taken and dropped into a vat of syrupy golden liquid. The blood swished about for a moment, then some strange runic language appeared in flashes, after which, a golden key floated up and solidified.

"Potter bloodline confirmed," Griphook said, taking the key. Something twisted inside Harry as he looked at the key. On it was the number 687. "Here you are. I will take you to your vault after dealing with the rest of your party. If it is your preference to go now, I will arrange for transportation." He offered Harry the key.

"I will wait," Harry said, taking the key. It was still warm. For something so small, it was so heavy in his hand.

"You sure, Harry?" Black asked. "We can go to your vault now. It's a pretty fun ride in a Gringotts cart. They're wicked fast."

"I prefer to go with my family," Harry answered coolly. "I'll wait."

"We'd like to open an account ourselves, under the name Takamachi-Harlaown," Nanoha said. "We'll need several keys," she went on, handing him the completed forms. Harry saw Okaasan's neat script, and knew she had filled them out; she was fast enough to do so in that short amount of time. The goblin looked surprised, but did not argue.

"Indeed," he said and looked over the scrolls. "You seem willing to transfer a rather substantial amount of money to our bank and have it converted. Even after our fees, you should still have, hmm, let me see," he went to scribble a few numbers on a bit of parchment.

"1, 087 galleons, 7 sickles and 9 knuts," Fate answered for him. He looked up at her. "I am very good at math," she explained, a faint flush in her cheeks. Black gaped at her, Signum was not paying them any attention (she was engaged in what might be considered a staring contest with another goblin), Nanomum smiled adoringly at her, and Vivo looked smug. Harry did not blame his sister; he liked it when their Okaasan impressed others with so little effort.

"Yes," Griphook replied calmly. "I noticed that many of the accounts you are drawing from are located in Japan."

"When we are visiting this world, that is where we stay. We actually live on a planet called Mid-Childa. It is not very close, at least three days by the fastest starship. Normally, Fate-chan uses a dimensional travel spell to transport us here," Nanoha explained. To her, talking about living on other planets was perfectly normal, an everyday occurrence. "Sadly, those spells are tough when you are trying to take the whole family, so she usually has to make a few trips and ends up drained for a while. It's just easier for all of us to go by starship anymore. It is a wonderful time for all of us to just be together, too. At the very least, the airfare is free and the view is lovely."

"I see." Griphook looked a little green at the thought. Well, interplanetary travel, no matter how lovely, was not for everyone. "Regardless, it will take some time for us to contact our agents in these banks and have the funds transferred. In the meantime, I can set up a vault for you. I shall need blood samples from anyone who will be granted access."

"I'll go first," Nanoha said. "I'm the Takamachi Nanoha, obviously the Takamachi part of the Takamachi-Harlaown account," she told the goblin, offering her hand with a smile.

The goblin looked at her strangely, apparently note quit accustomed to people just going along with what a goblin asked. Personally, Harry thought it had something to do with the scowl that seemed to be permanently etched on the face of every goblin that looked up from his or her books. He did not feel all that inclined to listen himself, but he knew that would only cause him problems. For the moment, he chose to finger the key he'd been given. He wondered what he would find in the vault. Would he find some relic that belonged to the Potters? Something more?

"Oh, me next, me next! We're still on the Takamachi part, right? I'm Takamachi Vivio. Me next!" Vivio cheered, practically shoving her hand in Griphook's face. Harry shook his head and watched as a drop of blood was taken from his sister and dropped into the same golden liquid his and Nanoha's blood had been put in.

"Next," the goblin said crisply, scowling at Vivio.

Black held up his hands as if to say he was innocent and stepped out of the way.

"That would be me," Fate said. "Fate T. Harlaown." She offered her hand. Blood was drawn, and the crimson drop—Harry noted it matched her eyes—fell down into the vat. Then, just as it had done with him, a key formed. The goblin scowled. Then his face turned sallow and he looked up at Fate, really looked at her.

"I…shall return momentarily," he said, then slipped off his stool and scuttled away.

"That was odd," Fate commented. "I thought we would have to wait to get keys."

"That was very unusual," Black commented. "Most goblins don't leave their post like that, especially when they are dealing with someone, and the keys would not be made until after the fact, one key for each drop of blood added to the account. I don't know why a key would form so soon. The goblin did not indicate it was the end of the process. This has never happened before, not that I know of at least."

"You don't have any wizarding blood, do you Fate-chan?" Nanoha asked.

Fate shrugged helplessly. "I might. I never knew my biological father, and I have never met any of my grandparents. Only Mother would know, or maybe Linith, but they are both gone." She shrugged again, still looking helpless. Black gave her calculated look, but she did not see. Harry noticed it though, and he did not like it.

Harry reached out and took his mother's hand. He did not care that he might get a few odd looks or comments. He loved his mother, and his was a tactile family. Let people whisper. He did not care.

As promised, the goblin Griphook returned. Behind him came a slightly taller goblin. This goblin carried a key, possibly the one Griphook pulled from the vat before.

The new goblin eyed them speculatively. He held up the key. "I am Vargut. This key, was created from you blood, was it not?" He asked Fate.

She nodded slowly. "It is possible. Nanoha and Vivo went before me, but nothing appeared for them. It was not until I added my blood that the key appeared. I have been told this is most uncommon, yes?"

"Indeed it is. This," Vargut began, then stopped. He looked sharply at Black. "I do not believe this is your concern as you are not a member of the family."

Black scowled at him then shrugged. "I have my own vault. I feel like spending a bit now. Guess I will go and pull out some of my unused galleons." With that, he walked away to another goblin. A woman with two small children saw him, gave a soft squeak, scooped up her children and scurried out of his way.

The goblin, Vargut, cleared his throat. "As I was saying, this is the key to the Testarossa vault. It has been sealed for centuries."

Fate nodded. "The T," she said. "I am Fate Testarossa Harlaown."

Vargut nodded. "We can unseal the vault for a price. You need not worry. I am aware of the contents of the Testarossa vault, and the rather substantial fee we ask for unsealing such a vault will not impact your financial status."

Vivio's eyes widened. "Whoa, Fate-mama, you must be loaded."

"The Testarossa family has always been wealthy," Fate shrugged. "We have had contact with many planets with sentient life. I am unsurprised that we have had contact with this planet in the past."

"With all due respect, I propose that you have not simply 'had contact' with this planet, but that it is your planet of origin," Vargut replied calmly. "The Testarossa family was a very prominent family in our world until approximately four centuries ago, when the last of the Testarossa bloodline vanished."

Harry smiled, the barest upturn of his lips. "So you are not completely Mid-Childan," he said to her. "You're English too." He gave her a sly look.

She smiled in return, a crooked, abashed smile. "Indeed my son, we are both English."

"And Japanese. And Mid-Childan." He was quick to add these. He did not favor the idea of being wholly English, not when he hated this land and its people so much.

"Mou what does that make me?" Vivio pouted. "I am not even from this planet."

"Neither am I," Fate replied easily, smoothing Vivio's hair. "At least you are all Belkan. I am so mixed up no one knows what I am!" She said with a soft, self-deprecating smile. Vivio smiled back, and Nanomum giggled at them.

Signum scoffed, drawing the goblins' attention for the first time.

"And you are?" Griphook asked.

"No one you would be interested in, as I have no money," Signum answered.

As if to prove her right, they turned away. Goblins, Harry supposed, must be very greedy creatures. Harry might have thought it rude, but they were in a bank and he was in no position to judge another race, particularly when so many of his own were prone to genocide.

Vargut cleared his throat. "Perhaps it would be prudent to simply add your companions to your list of those who have access to the Testarossa vault. As a trusted customer, we want only what is best for you." He looked almost pained saying it, and Harry would have bet his Device that he was thinking of all the money he stood to lose if Okaasan chose to close her account.

"That will not be necessary," she assured him. "We will still open an account for our family, but I would like to grant them access to the Testarossa vault as well. If possible, I would like a copy of any records you have regarding that account."

"I would like a set for the Potter vaults as well," Harry added.

Fate nodded to him, a hint of pride in her eyes. It was a good choice.

From there, the time they spent in Gringotts was very comfortable. The Takamachi-Harlaown account was created, the Testarossa vault was opened, and everyone had three new keys. It did not seem fair, after all, to have access to his mothers' accounts, but they not have access to his. So now everyone, Vivio included, had a key to the Potter vault. Fate, of course, would never dream of not giving access to her money to her family. Lastly, he was a member of the Takamachi-Harlaown family, so naturally he would have access to that vault too.

After the paperwork was finished, they needed to go to the carts. That had been amusing. There was not enough room in the cart for all of them. Just as Harry was dreading having to sit on a lap again, his mother saved him.

"I can keep pace," she said.

"Ah, then I shall too," Signum replied, a glimmer of competitiveness in her eyes.

The two looked at each other; both had the slightest upturn curve to their lips. Harry looked at Nanomum and Vivio, both were shaking their heads in amusement. Black just looked puzzled.

Fate nodded then turned to look at Griphook. "Signum and I will run alongside as there is not enough room for all of us. It will not be a problem, I trust?"

Griphook looked at her. "Not for me, but there are a great many dangers among the vaults to protect the assets of our clients. Surely you must know that we here in Gringotts have defenses."

"We'll be fine," Fate assured him. "Though Signum may get lost along the way," she said, giving her old friend a sly look.

"If you don't pass out from exhaustion, naturally," Signum replied easily.

"They'll be fine," Nanoha said, rolling her eyes affectionately. "They're always like this. They won't get hurt."

"You have been warned," he said pitilessly.

The family got into the cart, Harry and Vivio up with Griphook, and Nanoha and Black in the back. Fate and Signum took up positions on either side, smirking at one another. The goblin shook his head and grinned darkly down at the front of the cart. Harry suspected he thought something might happen to them. How entertaining.

The cart took off. It was fast, but nothing terrible. He suspected that he could have run with Fate and Signum at the pace they were going, but would have had a little more trouble with the corners. He was fast, but his agility still needed work.

When the cart came to a jerking stop, Griphook announced "Vault 687" then looked surprised to see Fate and Signum still standing on either side.

"I am surprised you are not winded from the length of the run," Signum commented.

"And I am surprised that you were not lost," Fate replied. "Perhaps you had a map to guide you."

"I am hardly the sort to lose such a trail so easily. The run was disappointingly short, however, as unlike some present, I have superior endurance."

"Ah, it was rather like a brisk walk, was it not? For me, certainly, but perhaps your age has caught up with you and made the pace more trying."

"Are you two finished yet?" Nanomum asked them, but she was looking at Okaasan. Fate had the grace to look abashed. She looked back at Griphook. "I am sorry. They are always like this."

"Nanoha," Okaasan muttered, her cheeks aflame.

"How did you keep up? The cart…" Black looked at her in a daze.

Fate lifted her eyebrows in surprise. "It was not difficult at all," she answered. "It was pleasant, really. Like a nice jog." She paused and gave him a thoughtful look. "I did see a few dragons and a few other beings I did not recognize. They must be creatures native to this world."

Harry shook his head and looked at the Potter vault. He wondered what it would be like to stand before this vault with his birth family, and found that he had no burning desire to know. He was happy with the family that took him in, accepted him, and loved him.

Harry opened the Potter vault and looked at the piles of gold, silver and bronze coins. There was quite a bit, more than he thought. Black had mentioned that he would be able to buy his school supplies with the potter's money, but he had not imagined there would be so much. He shook his head again, this time in bewilderment.

"This is more than enough for you to buy your school supplies," Black said, as if to reiterate his thoughts. He seemed very pleased.

"Why would he need to do that?" Nanoha asked, completely bewildered. "Fate-chan and I will pay for anything he or Vivio needs. They _are_ our children after all." She gave him an odd look then turned to Harry. "That is quite a bit in there. Any idea what you want to do with it?"

Harry considered this, mindful of the goblin and Black watching him. "I can think of a variety of things. Possible investments, removing some and placing it in alternative accounts in Japan, perhaps convert some to Mid-Childan money, that way I can begin working on investments on other planets."

Nanoha looked pleased, Griphook looked horrified, Black looked stunned, and Vivio looked bored. "Can we go now?" His sister asked. "I want to get to the shopping part of this experience."

The rest of the trip was fairly quick. They went to the Black and Testarossa vaults. Both were filled with money and artifacts, but the Testarossa vault—number 493—was far larger. Fate had taken a great deal of money from the account, roughly a thousand galleons, citing that she did not know what she would need to purchase. There was no noticeable decrease in her funds after she made her withdrawal. Black had also taken a tidy sum, but he did not say why.

The entire time Fate and Signum ran alongside the cart, Harry was tempted to do the same, but reminded himself of his previous decision to keep his abilities a secret for as long as he could. He needed to maintain his own form of cover.

They left the bank and looked around. The sun was shining brightly overhead and people were milling about. He wanted to explore, but he knew there was more he had to do first. He had no intention of actually attending Hogwarts—what a truly repugnant name—but he knew he would need the uniform to maintain appearances. If nothing else, he could have them examined so that he could learn more about this form of magic.

"Where shall we go next?" Fate asked him.

Harry glanced at Black. "Madam Malkin's. That is place that makes clothing, right?"

Black nodded. "Yes, you'll need to get your robes there. Everyone might want to get a few sets, school robes or not. It would help to keep you from standing out. Well, some of you," he said, with a most unsubtle glance at Signum's hair.

"Madam Malkin's it is, then."

And so the troop left the bank behind them, ready to face the next leg of their journey. Privately, Harry had a knot in his stomach. It felt almost as though something changed in that moment when Griphook confirmed he was a Potter.

Harry turned and looked up at the bank. He knew what that feeling was now. Loss. If he was a Potter, he was not a Harlaown. If he was a Potter, he was a wizard, not a Mage like every other Harlaown. He scowled and moved with his family again. He was a Harlaown, and no one, not even a Gringotts goblin, would tell him otherwise.

-THE PHOTO ALBUM-

_SNAP!_

There is a photograph of a young boy with messy hair. He is curled up against a woman's side on a sofa, head lolling on her chest, eyes closed. He looks like he is asleep. On the arm of the sofa rests an open book. The woman is smiling, and her eyes are trained on the book.

The back reads: _Story time_

_Harry (5) and Fate (19)_

Far from England, on the distant planet called Mid-Childa, stands a quaint little house. It is called the Takamachi-Harlaown residence.

Long before this house was ever built, back when the house was still being dreamed up, a young boy trembles in his bed. It is too big, the sheets too soft, the pillows too fluffy. He is used to the mattress pad, the moth-eaten blanket, and using his arm for a pillow as he sleeps in the cupboard under the stairs. He is uncomfortable amidst so much comfort.

Whimpering, hoping he does not get caught, the young boy slips out of bed. He hugs himself tightly as he slowly, slowly leaves the room. He walks, trembling slightly, down an unfamiliar hallway. He does not know this place, he knows only that it is completely different from anything at his aunt and uncle's house. Here there is no Aunt Petunia, there is no Uncle Vernon, there is no cousin Dudley. This is a place called the Takamachi Residence, and it is where Nanoha Takamachi's family lives. He is staying here, though he does not know why. He likes that this place is far away from England, from his aunt and uncle and cousin, he knows that.

He has not spoken, not beyond that first word on his first night with Fate. He has said only his name. He does not want to say anything else because he is sure they will send him away if he can't learn to shut his yap like Uncle Vernon is always telling him. He remains silent because he likes this place, even if he does not always understand everything that is going on or what the people around him are saying. He does know that everyone speaks Japanese, and that he likes the language very much. He wants to learn.

And so the young boy walks unknowingly into what he first thinks is an empty room. Then he sees the woman named Fate. She is sitting on the sofa, leaning against the right armrest, a book in her lap. He stares at her for long moment, and thinks that perhaps it would be best if he left. Just as he is turning to go, she calls out to him.

"You can sit with me if you would like," she says softly. Her voice is soft and inviting.

He considers her offer. He has only known this woman named Fate for little over a month now. She has done many things for him, many things that he does not understand. She has tucked him in at night, she has brought him broth while he lies in bed, she has even fed him. He does not understand why she does the things she does, but he knows that he likes it, that he does not want her to stop. And so, because he does not want her to stop, he decides it would be best to accept her offer.

He walks over silently, careful not to shuffle his feet (Uncle Vernon hates it when he shuffles his feet), and sits in the middle of the couch. Fate smiled at him, slides her arm over the back of the couch, and goes back to her book. She reads silently, and he watches her face. She does not scowl or frown, and there are no lines on her face. This is odd to Harry, who is used to seeing his Aunt Petunia scowling, his Uncle Vernon frowning, and seeing the thick lines on both of their faces. Fate picks up the book and sets in on the armrest.

"Once upon a time," Fate says, as though she is reading from the book. Harry knows she is not, because once upon a time is for the beginning of the story, but she is in the middle of her book. "There was a young girl. Her mother was a very sad woman, who sent the young girl on many missions. The girl went on these missions because she was sure that if she did her best, she could bring back her mother's happiness, bring back her smile. Although the girl always did her best, she was unable to make her mother smile. Because she could not do as she was asked, the girl's mother was upset with her, and had to teach her a lesson so she would do better the next time. After her lessons, the young girl always had trouble trying to fall asleep. Beds were just uncomfortable.

"In the end, the girl had to find some place to rest. Since she could not sleep on a bed, she would often find herself lying on the couch in her house. The young girl had a familiar, an animal companion that could turn into a human. Often times, her familiar would sit on the couch, and the girl would fall asleep with her head in her familiar's lap. For many years, it was the only way the girl could sleep. It was a long time before she could learn to sleep in a bed like all of her friends. It took almost as long to learn that it was alright for her to have trouble sleeping in a bed."

Fate looks over at him. She watches him for several long moments, silent. Harry wonders what she is trying to tell him. He knows there must be something more to her story. He thinks he must be too young to understand what she is trying to say to him. It does not surprise him. He knows he is not very smart. Uncle Vernon always tells him how stupid he is, and Aunt Petunia always nods her agreement. Dudley just points and laughs.

"You can stay here with me," Fate says. Her arm is still curled around the back of the couch, so her side is open to him. It would be so easy to slide across the seat, he thinks, and lean against her side. She smiles so nicely at him, that he is sure she will not mind.

He inches over, then stops. Fate does not move. He inches over a little more, then stops again. Fate just continues to watch him. He inches over a third time, and now he's against her side. He trembles a little, waiting for her to tell him that he's too close, that he should go away, go back to his room, go back to his family. She says nothing. He looks up at her face, and she only smiles.

Harry allows himself to relax against the back of the couch. He can feel the warmth of her body, and it soothes him. It would be horrible if he were to fall asleep on her. He might drool. She might hit him if he does something like that. He cannot let himself sleep. His eyes flutter shut, and he forces them open again. His head nods, and he starts to fall forward, but he jerks himself back.

He is not sure when, or how, but he falls asleep.

-chapter end-

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha/Mahou Shojou Lyrical Nanoha.

A/N: I am very sorry this took so long. Painfully long story short, I graduate in May, but my college lost A LOT of very important things. Including my application to graduate and some of my actual hours. Yeah. I spent a lot of time arguing with people. And then I had a midterm. I hope I will be able to start writing with some regularity again.

Anyway, this is this end of part one. In keeping with the HP book, this first few parts will be shorter, but will get longer. Like the books. Please read and review!

Au revoir,

Hatter


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